The Peril of Secrets
by camlann
Summary: A Sarmatian with divided loyalties-will he have to choose between his brothers and the one he loves? -COMPLETE-
1. Chapter 1: Taking a Risk

Chapter 1: Taking a Risk

Disclaimer: You know the drill...the only characters I own are Dayn, Aldric, and Cei.

A/N: This is my first fanfic ever, so I hope it's alright. Please R&R.

Dayn looked around impatiently, wondering when the others would be drunk enough that he could make his escape. He'd been here for too long already. The ale was flowing freely, and there was no shortage of women in a tavern such as this one, so it shouldn't be long now. Lancelot was no worry, not with that wench on his lap...yes, he was quite occupied. And Bors was already drunk enough that the Woads could have attacked and he probably wouldn't notice. Dayn heard Gawain start singing-- his voice was unmistakable, for no one could quite slaughter a song like Gawain. And since Gawain only sang when he was drunk, well...he was no longer a concern. Cei looked like he was only a sip or two away from joining in on Gawain's song. Not that Cei was much of a worry anyway—he was quite oblivious, even when he wasn't drunk. Galahad was busy negotiating with the bartender it looked like. Aldric and Dagonet were playing some sort of game at a table a few feet away, leaving the drinking to the others. Of Tristan, there was no sign. Galahad came over then, two mugs of ale in his hands, slipping a little as he tried to sit down with the cautiousness of the slightly inebriated.

"Here, Dayn...I brought you some ale. You haven't had anything to drink."

"Nay. I don't wish for any tonight." Dayn winced as he realized how out of character it was for him to refrain. Hopefully, Galahad was drunk enough not to notice.

"Surely, you jest. Here," Galahad said, thrusting the mug into Dayn's hand. _Now, how do I get rid of it without anyone noticing_, Dayn thought. Bors. Yes, Bors was the key. Dayn clapped Galahad on the shoulder, and stood.

"My thanks." He headed for Bors, sure that he would appreciate the ale, but before he could reach him, one of the Roman soldiers knocked into him. Dayn told himself to ignore the infraction, but the Roman was not so willing.

"Watch where you're going, boy," the Roman snarled as he gave Dayn a small shove. Dayn turned, his eyes flashing with a dangerous flicker as his gaze turned icy.

"Touch me again, and I'll kill you," he said, quietly. The tavern fell silent as everyone waited to see what would happen. Dayn's hand slipped down to the dagger at his waist.

"Do you really think you stand a chance against me, boy?"

"Let's find out," Dayn replied with a cold smile. Before he could pull his dagger, however, a large hand covered his. _Dagonet_.

"Dayn, do you remember what Arthur said about you fighting with the Roman soldiers?" _Yeah, he said it better not happen again...but what Arthur didn't know wouldn't hurt him, now, would it?_

"Arthur's not here, Dag. Now, release me." While Dagonet had Dayn's attention, Aldric had come up behind the Roman and was convincing him to head over to the bartender and get another ale. But Dayn would not be satisfied with that, for the Roman had insulted him, and that was something he never tolerated. Pouring the ale he still held out onto the ground, he hefted the mug, and threw it at the back of the Roman's head. The Roman never saw it coming and he dropped to the ground without a sound.

Unfortunately, the Roman had friends who stood up, angry on behalf of their comrade. Dagonet shoved Dayn toward the door, annoyed that he would have to be the one to make sure that none of the Romans were killed. "Get out of here, Dayn. You let me handle this. If you kill one of them, Arthur will have both our heads." Dayn shrugged, and left the tavern without a second thought.

_As far as distractions go, I suppose that was a good one. Not a planned one, obviously, but it worked. _And he was free to go wherever he wanted with no one giving him a second thought. With a smile, he headed for an area of the fort that he knew would be unprotected. There weren't many weaknesses in Hadrian's Wall, but Dayn knew where to go when he wanted to get out without anyone noticing.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he traversed the wall, landing lightly on his feet on the other side. As long as he was back before dawn, no one would notice his absence. And since the Roman he'd fought wasn't dead, Arthur shouldn't seek him out for any reason before morning. He took off for the hills, and the woods that lay beyond.

Tristan watched Dayn slip over the Wall with a blank expression. This made the third time this week that the boy had slipped away from the fort. _Wonder where he's off to?_ He was curious, in a distant sort of way, but having imbibed a fair amount of ale, he wasn't motivated enough to question it further.

At nineteen, Dayn was the youngest of Arthur's knights, two years younger than Galahad. _The boy was quite the fighter_, Tristan thought, _which, knowing his penchant for trouble, was necessary_. Dayn's temper was legendary, even among the older knights, which made him quite a worthy opponent, definitely one worth watching. It was an unspoken rule between the knights that Dayn was to be watched at all times by at least one of them. To leave Dayn unsupervised was folly, for there was always a risk that he'd go after someone, especially if that someone was a Roman. Even Arthur was hard-pressed to keep Dayn under control. _Glad I'm not the one who has to deal with him._ Tristan considered following Dayn, but with a shrug, decided to leave the boy to his secrets. After all, there were no Romans in the woods, so why bother?


	2. Chapter 2: Clandestine Outings

A/N: If you're anything like me, you'll drive yourself crazy trying to figure out the pronunciation of certain names. Feel free to pronounce them however you want, but if you really want to know, the pronunciation key is as follows:

Tadhg- TYG (This is the correct pronunciation, but I actually prefer to say it TAY-dig)

Orainne- Or-AIN-ah

Nemhain- Nim-HINE

I think the other names are easy enough, but if you can't figure something out, send me a review (heehee) and I'll see if I can help you out. Also, please note that Nemhain is technically an Irish Celtic goddess, but I really like the idea of her, so I'm using her as a British goddess. Just wanted to clear that up. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I always forget this part...at this point, I think we all know that I don't own anything but the original characters that I've added.

* * *

Chapter 2—Clandestine Outings

Dayn pulled the hood of his cloak up more securely around his head, hiding his features from any watching eyes as he ran towards the forest. His face was well hidden by the shadows cast by the moon, but he didn't want to take any chances. It wouldn't do to be seen, not until he was safely hidden in the forest.

He made it to the clearing without further hindrance, worried that they would have left without him. Dayn glanced around as he pushed the hood of his cloak back, getting his bearings. Tadhg stepped out of the shadows, his impatience obvious.

"You are late, Dayn."

"I know. It was harder than usual to get away." Tadhg nodded before turning and leading Dayn deeper into the forest. Dayn increased his pace, knowing that time was precious. They didn't have any to waste.

Very shortly, they reached the Woad village that Tadhg called home, and Dayn followed him out of the shadows of the forest, pushing the hood of his cloak back. "Find someone to paint you. We'll wait for you here." Knowing that it was crucial that he be painted with the blue paint so favored by the Woads, he headed for a small hut on the edge of the village. It was as good an excuse as any to go see her. He eagerly approached the door to the hut where Orainne lived with her father and her siblings.

"Orainne," he called. The door opened, and a young girl about his age hurdled into his arms.

"Dayn, you made it! I wasn't sure if I would see you."

"They wait for me. I need to be painted. Would you mind?"

"No, of course not." She pulled him inside and made quick work of painting a plethora of blue designs on his face and exposed arms. With a satisfied smile, she stepped back, admiring her work before nodding. He stood, thanking her with a kiss, before pulling the hood of his cloak back around his face.

"We should not be long. I will see you when we return."

"Be careful, Dayn." With a reassuring smile, he ran out, eager to leave with the others. Tadhg still stood where Dayn had parted from him, but he was joined by about ten other Woad men. The leader, Garran, looked around, counting heads, before nodding his satisfaction.

"It's time." Silently, the group proceeded into the forest, blending silently into the darkness of the forest. They traveled quickly, not impeded by the trees and brambles in the least. They came to a rise, and Garran signaled a halt. "There it is," he said, pointing down. A small camp of Roman soldiers lay below-- _just waiting for slaughter_, Dayn thought with a grin.

As they slowly crept towards the camp, they began to spread out, their intention to surround the Romans on all sides. Donal would see to the horses, his job being to make sure the Romans could not escape on horseback. With one good smack on the rump, the horses would be back to Hadrian's Wall before the Romans would even know they were under attack.

With a grin, Dayn glided between the sleeping bodies of the Romans until he reached their fire. He picked up the bucket of water that sat nearby and then slowly drew his sword. He had been charged with starting the attack, and it was a job he relished. He poured the water onto the fire, and steam hissed and spewed, rising up to wrap around Dayn's cloaked and painted figure. It took no more than a moment before the Romans began to wake.

"Looks like your fire went out," Dayn said companionably. It only took a second for them to realize that Dayn wasn't one of their own. With a lunge, one of them sprang from his bedroll, sword in hand. Dayn sidestepped, and with a bloodcurdling roar, swung his sword, catching the Roman on the backswing. The attack began in earnest as the Woads seemed to rise out of the darkness to strike the Romans.

Dayn didn't really recall any of the battle after killing the first Roman, for once a battle began, his instincts and training took over, and his consciousness was left behind as the killing ensued. It made him an intimidating opponent, as he often appeared quite mad to his foes.

"Dayn, you're hurt."

"What?" Dayn blinked and the world slowly came back into focus. He stepped forward, and would have fallen if Tadhg hadn't caught him. He glanced down to see blood oozing out of a gash in his side. _Damn. If I'd been wearing my armor, this wouldn't have happened. _But there was no hope for that, because the knights would have noticed if he'd worn his armor at the tavern. No doubt there would have been questions. He hoped the injury wasn't serious, because if Arthur or the other knights noticed he was injured, they'd start asking questions that Dayn couldn't afford to answer. "You are touched by Nemhain, my friend." _Who the hell is Nemhain? _"Come, Dayn, let me help you."

"It's not bad, Tadhg."

"We don't have the time to argue over it. We must get you back to the village. You have little time before you must return to the Wall." Knowing that Tadhg was right, he accepted the offered shoulder, leaning gratefully on Tadhg.

The trek back to the village was much slower, and to Dayn, it seemed to last forever. Tadhg helped him to the healer's hut, and while Kieran was bandaging his torso, Orainne came in, a panicked expression on her face.

"Dayn, Tadhg said you were hurt!" She rushed to his side, and he smiled indulgently at her.

"It is merely a scratch. You worry needlessly." She sat down beside him, reaching for his hand, which he willingly gave her.

"I told you to be careful, Dayn. And now look at you. You should have listened to me," she said, chiding him with a gentle smile.

"I'll try to remember that for next time." He winced as Kieran pulled the bandages taut around his waist, securing them with a tight knot. "Orainne, can you bring some water and a cloth? I need to get this paint off, for I have to leave for the Wall soon." She complied, leaving to fetch the items as Kieran helped him get his tunic back on.

Orainne quickly returned with the asked for items, and set to work cleaning the blue paint from his face and arms. Dayn used the time to study her, admiring the deep auburn hair that fell to the middle of her back in a thick mass of waves. Her eyes were a bright blue, the color of the sky on a clear day. His own eyes were a shade of gray that could be likened to the color of steel, nowhere near as pretty as Orainne's in Dayn's opinion.

When all traces of the blue paint had been removed, he slowly stood, barely wincing as he straightened. She led him outside, pulling him into the trees away from the village. He followed without a word, knowing the grove to which she was leading him. She came to a stop in a small copse of trees, and turned to him, stepping into his arms.

"Can you not stay awhile, Dayn," she asked, turning slightly to face him. He loosened his hold a little, as he smiled down at her, pulling gently on a strand of her hair.

"You know I have to be back by dawn. Otherwise, someone might see me sneaking back into the fort."

"I wish you didn't have to go back." _Me too,_ Dayn thought, his mood shifting as he thought angrily of the Romans who forced him and the others to serve them in their quest for power.

"They would look for me, if I were to suddenly go missing. Your people would be in danger then."

"I know, but I don't get to see you very much." She lifted a finger, slowly tracing the tattoo that started over his eye and worked its way across his temple and down his jaw. She stopped when she reached the edge that disappeared under the collar of his tunic and slowly looked up to meet his eyes. "Have you been given another mission, yet?

"Not yet. But I think it will be soon. Those Roman bastards never keep us waiting for very long." His jaw clenched again, and she quietly laid her hand against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I should not have brought it up."

"It is forgotten," he said, and it was, because he could never stay angry when she looked at him that way.

He slowly sat down, leaning against a tree and pulling her down beside him. He held her close, feeling a sense of peace come over him. They spoke for awhile, murmuring inconsequential nothings to one another, before something occurred to him.

"Orainne, who is Nemhain?"

"She is a goddess. Why do you ask?"

"Tadhg said I was touched by her. I wondered what he meant." Worry blossomed in her eyes, and she glanced down, biting her lip. "What is it? What's the matter?"

"Dayn, being touched by Nemhain...it isn't necessarily a good thing."

"Why?" He knew nothing of the Celtic gods, having never bothered much with religion of any sort. _Hell, I don't even know anything about the gods of my own people, much less the Celtic gods. _

"She's a battle goddess, the goddess of battle frenzy. To be touched by her is...dangerous." He didn't put much stock in gods and goddesses, but he knew that Orainne took it seriously.

"Worry not for me." She fell quiet, and he cursed himself for bringing it up. She toyed with his hair, wrapping a strand around her finger. With skilled hands, she worked three strands into a braid, before securing it with a small piece of leather. _She's going to make me look like Tristan if she keeps that up. _Butit felt nice, feeling her fingers tugging at his hair, so he relaxed, letting her do with it what she would.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but they fell asleep, and the next thing he knew, he woke up with the sun shining on his face. Blinking his eyes, he looked around, confused.

Orainne was asleep beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, a soft smile on her face. Pushing his hair back from his face, he looked up, hoping to get an idea of the time. _Oh no. _"Orainne, wake up. I have to go!" She sat up, a drowsy look on her face as she looked around her.

"Will Arthur be angry with you?"

He carefully stood, glad to see that his injury did not pain him overmuch. He reached a hand down, helping Orainne to her feet. "If he noticed my absence, he will be."

"If he is angry, will that keep you from coming to me?"

"Nothing could keep me from coming to you," he said softly, gently tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. "But I think we will be leaving again soon. I will try to get word to you before I leave, but as always, I cannot guarantee that it will be possible. Sometimes, it is too difficult to evade the others. Tristan is ever vigilant."

"All I ask is that you try. I know you will do your best." She smiled sadly at him, disheartened that their time together had come to an end.

He kissed her then, because there was nothing more he could say. With one last look at her, he turned and pulled the hood of his cloak back up around his face as he took off for Hadrian's Wall as fast as his injury would permit.

* * *

As Dayn ran towards the fort wall, he heard someone yell his name. He winced, coming to a stop five feet from the wall. He turned to see one of the other knights, Caderyn riding toward him. _With luck, Caderyn will notice not that I'm not where I should be. _

"Oh, Caderyn, you're back." Caderyn reined his horse in, coming to a stop in front of Dayn. He swung from his saddle, letting out a groan as he stood.

"It feels good to be out of the saddle." _Yes, riding for as long as Caderyn had did tend to leave one with a sore ass. _Arthur had sent Caderyn out a week ago to ride south and check on the progress of the caravan of Romans who were setting out for Hadrian's Wall. As with most caravans, it was moving rather slowly, and Caderyn had easily outdistanced them.

"Did you find the caravan, Caderyn?"

"Yes. I think we will be sent to escort them north."

"North? But that's beyond the wall. That's Woad territory." Dayn looked at him blankly, confused as to why anyone would voluntarily go north without a damn good reason.

"Yes, Dayn, I know. But that's not our concern. Now, why don't you tell me what you were up to outside the wall at this time of the morning?"

"Nothing."

"Dayn. I know you. It is never 'nothing' with you."

"Since when are you my mother," Dayn said crossly. "I don't need your concern." Caderyn eyed the leaves that still littered Dayn's long, black hair, and lifted an eyebrow.

"Dayn, I may not be your mother, but you sure as hell need someone to look after you. You find trouble entirely too easy, my friend." Dayn flashed a smile, then, one that reminded Caderyn all too much of Lancelot. "Oh, I see. It's a female then. Well, if you're having to meet her outside the wall, then I guess I don't have to tell you to be damn careful that her father doesn't find out."

Dayn didn't respond, preferring to neither confirm nor deny. He followed Caderyn as he led his horse through the gates. "Just don't let Arthur know."

"I won't tell him if you don't, Cade." Caderyn grinned, ruffling Dayn's hair playfully.

"Yes, well perhaps you should get the leaves out of your hair before Arthur sees you," he said with a chuckle.

As Dayn headed for his room, he passed Tristan, who eyed him curiously. "Late night, Dayn?"

"What of it," Dayn said defensively. Tristan made him nervous, for his eyes saw everything. If anyone were to figure out where Dayn was going, it would be Tristan. He glared at Tristan defiantly, daring him to respond. But Tristan said nothing, not rising to the bait. If Dayn wanted a fight, he wouldn't find it with Tristan. Never one to let others rile him, Tristan merely gave Dayn an analyzing look before he walked off towards the main hall where the round table stood. "Arthur wants us to be at the table shortly, Dayn. Don't be late," he called over his shoulder. Dayn gazed at Tristan's retreating form, worried. _Did Tristan know something?_ If he did, Dayn would have no way of knowing, for Tristan never revealed anything. But if he did, and he told Arthur, there was no going to be trouble, for there was no way of knowing how Arthur would react.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys...nothing like waking up to reviews...it's rather inspiring.

**Nimue26**: Yes, you were my first reviewer—yay! Thanks so much for the nice things you said...it really got me moving on my next chapter, and I feel a lot more confident about my writing. I love new knights, and I can't wait to see what you come up with in your story. Hope you like my newest addition—Caderyn...he's one of my favorites.

**BillieLiv: **I hope that I satisfied your interest...I'm working on it.

**ModestySparrow9**: Sorry I left you hanging, Modesty...you know, it's funny—I hate it when people leave me hanging, but something just made me do it...so, I apologize, even though I know I'll probably do it again. I tried to include a little more about Dayn's appearance for you...I wanted to do that in the first chapter, but I found it difficult to fit it in without it throwing off the flow of the story. Also, you guessed rightly about who Dayn was going to see, but I hope it didn't ruin it for you. As you can probably tell, there is definitely a Dayn pairing in this story...I don't know yet if there will be a Tristan pairing, because as of right now, Orainne is the only female character in the story, but I'll see what I can do. I'm quite the Tristan fan myself.

**lindalee4: **I'm glad you found my story interesting. I would have been interested to hear your ideas, even the farfetched ones...sometimes, those are the ones that give you ideas for things. Anyways, keep reading and reviewing!


	3. Chapter 3: North to Bremenium

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't really see the point in disclaimers, seeing as how this is fanfic, which is by definition based on something that someone else thought up, but sure, ok...everyone knows the drill...I own only the original characters, obviously, and that's pretty much it.

Chapter 3—North to Bremenium

Dayn ran from his room, knowing that he was late. But then, he was always late, so it was pretty much a normal occurrence. He would have been on time, but he'd stopped to change his clothes, and discard his cloak. He had checked the bandages, pleased to see that the gash in his side didn't seem to be bleeding through. So now, he was running late.

He scurried to a halt at the entrance to the main hall, trying to slip in unobtrusively. But Arthur had waited for him, and his impatience was quite obvious. Dayn offered him an apologetic smile as he slipped into his seat between Caderyn and Dagonet. Bors, sitting on the other side of Dagonet, had a mug of ale in hand and a smile on his face.

"You're late, boy. Have some ale," he said holding out his mug. _Bors must be in a generous mood this morning, to give up his ale so readily,_ Dayn thought with a grin. Reaching around Dagonet, he took the offered ale, thinking that what he really needed was food, not ale. But ale would have to do, until he could dig up something to eat.

Arthur cleared his throat, obviously ready to begin judging by the look on his face. "Dayn, work on your sense of time, please."

"Sorry, Arthur."

"Caderyn has brought word back of the caravan. They are making good progress, and should be here within a few days. However, word came early this morning of a raid. Woads attacked and killed a small contingent of Roman soldiers sometime in the night."

Dayn smirked as Arthur gave them the news. _Impressive--they received word fairly quickly this time. Last time we slaughtered a camp of soldiers, it took days for them to find out._ He chuckled, and all eyes turned to him as Arthur trailed off.

"Dayn, does the slaughter of Roman soldiers amuse you?" _That was a tricky one, _Dayn thought, _for if I answer no, then I'm lying. But if I answer yes, then Arthur will be angry._

"Is that a trick question," he asked with a grin. Bors laughed, but quickly tried to suppress it, and Dayn could see smiles on the faces of some of the others. Arthur gazed at Dayn, his eyes boring into him, until Dayn looked down. No one could make a person feel guilty like Arthur. The silence lasted for another minute, before Arthur continued.

"We're being asked to ride out and escort the caravan back here. With the recent attacks, it is likely that they will need the extra protection that we can provide. Once here, the caravan will resupply their food stores before we escort them north. They will remain with us as far as Trilundus, before we journey on to Bremenium."

"What's in Bremenium," Lancelot asked, curiosity on his features. _That's a good question,_ Dayn thought, his own curiosity piqued.

"A peasant uprising puts the nobles there in danger. Our orders are to go in and put a stop to the uprising." Rage welled up in Dayn, white-hot in its intensity.

"Let the peasants do what they will. They're better off without the nobles," he growled. Arthur sighed, having known that Dayn would protest.

"Dayn, we have our orders. We're to protect the nobles. The peasants cannot be allowed free rein, the result would be chaos. Order must be maintained."

"We're helping the Romans do to these people the same thing they did to ours," he yelled angrily.

"Dayn, this is what we do," Lancelot spoke up, his tone annoyed. "Why do you fight it? Your whining about it isn't going to change a damn thing!"

"Unlike you, Lancelot, I'm not willing to be a lapdog for the Romans! At least I don't just give in and do what I'm told!"

"No, you just get yourself into trouble and the rest of us have to bail you out." Dayn's anger spiked, and for a second he saw red. He picked up his mug and threw it, missing Lancelot by mere inches. The moment of violence released some of his anger, giving him back some measure of control.

"You know, we lose more good mugs that way," Bors remarked to Dagonet. Dayn stood, shoving his chair over backwards, heading for the door.

"Dayn, don't be that way," Gawain called out in a conciliatory tone.

"Yeah, have another ale," Bors exclaimed.

"How does it feel, Lancelot, to be a willing slave to Roman decrees?" Dayn didn't wait for an answer, but left, heading for the stables to saddle his horse.

* * *

Galahad caught up with Dayn in the stables, where he was securing the saddle on his horse. 

"Dayn, are you still angry?"

"Well, let me think—we're being ordered to fight a bunch of peasants who can't possibly defend themselves against us, and to top that off, Lancelot insulted me in front of the others. So, tell me Galahad, am I still angry?"

"Hmm...well, if it makes you feel any better, you managed to splash him with ale when you threw that mug. That was a nice throw, by the way."

"What are you talking about? I missed, didn't I?"

"You mean, you were trying to hit him?"

"Why else would I have thrown it? I was simply too angry to aim properly." Gawain came in then, followed by Dagonet, Bors, and Tristan. Dayn turned his attention back to his horse, wanting to be out of the stables when Lancelot arrived.

"You shouldn't let your anger interfere with your aim," Tristan said quietly as he moved past Dayn to where his own saddle rested. Dayn's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as he watched Tristan saddle his horse with quick efficiency.

"He's right, Dayn," Dagonet spoke up. "You let your temper get the best of you. One day it's going to get you into trouble, and we won't always be around to help you."

"I don't need anyone's help," Dayn snapped back. What they didn't know was that Dayn wasn't _letting_ his temper do anything. It just seemed to happen. Deep down, it scared him, knowing that there were moments that he seemed to lose complete control of himself. In those moments, his anger became an almost tangible thing, and he could do nothing to stop it. Taking the reins in a tight fist, he led his horse outside, brushing past Lancelot on the way.

Arthur was waiting at the courtyard when Dayn arrived, still leading his horse.

"Dayn, I need to know that I can count on you to be there when I need you. The others need that as well, and fighting with them is not the way to show it."

"Oh, so it's all my fault, is it?"

"Dayn..."

"I got it, Arthur. It's clear where your loyalties lie."

"Dayn, you know better than that. All of my knights hold a place in my heart. This isn't about the relationships I have with any of you. It is important that we not have enmity within—we'll tear each other apart if we let matters such as this fester. Talk to Lancelot. Work out whatever issues you have with one another."

_Yeah, I'll work it out—with a nice blow to his face._ But, he didn't say that. Instead he met Arthur's eyes with his own. "Are you going to give Lancelot this lecture as well?"

With a slight curling of his lips and a gleam in his eyes, Arthur replied, "I already have. Take care of it, Dayn." With a curt nod, Dayn mounted his horse, turning his back on Arthur. He could feel a headache coming on. It always happened when he struggled to rein in his temper. Which was why he didn't bother to try most of the time. It was easier to just let his anger take him in the moment.

"You shouldn't let Lance get to you, Dayn." He turned to see Caderyn beside him, a carefree smile on his face.

"I know. But I find it too hard to stop myself." _If he only knew the truth of that statement,_ Dayn thought. The others rode out into the courtyard, and at Arthur's signal, the knights set out.

They traveled at a fast gallop for most of the day, and Dayn was left to his thoughts. He regretted that he had not been given an opportunity to tell Orainne that he would be gone. Not for the first time, he wished that he could court her properly, instead of being forced to meet her in secret when he got a spare moment. _One day...one day, I'll be free, and Rome will be nothing more than a smear on my memory. _

Time passed quickly, and before Dayn knew it, they were stopping for the night. As he pulled the saddle off his horse, Lancelot approached him, clearing his throat. "Dayn."

"What?"

"Look, Arthur wants us to 'get along', so even if we don't like each other, we have to at least make Arthur think that we do. So, let's just call a truce, and we can both be spared Arthur's speeches."

"Yeah, alright. You leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone."

"You have a deal." Lancelot gave him a final nod, his trademark smile in place once more. Dayn watched him until he rejoined the others before turning his attention back to his horse, Brina. Once he'd taken care of her, he headed for the fire that Gawain had started, arriving just as Arthur was speaking.

"...so I think we should reach the caravan by tomorrow afternoon." As Dayn passed Lancelot, everyone grew quiet, waiting to see what would happen. Dayn grinned inwardly, knowing they all expected some sort of violence to erupt.

"Dayn," Lancelot said, acknowledging him with a nod and a slight smile.

"Lancelot," Dayn responded, nodding back. He sat down, feeling quite pleased with himself. _That should satisfy Arthur._

"You two aren't fooling anyone," Arthur said, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "But I appreciate your efforts on my behalf." Everyone laughed, and the tension was broken.

* * *

They met up with the caravan, leading them in without any problems. As long as Dayn kept his distance from the Romans, he found that he was in a rather pleasant mood. There were no attacks, and Arthur certainly looked pleased. Dayn thought nothing of it, knowing that the lack of attacks probably just meant that the only Woads that would be brave enough to attack were in Garran's band, and they all knew to avoid the Sarmatians. 

As the knights arrived in the courtyard of the fort, the caravan right behind them, Arthur called the knights together.

"Knights, there's been a change in plans. We have to head north immediately. We'll leave the caravan here, and travel on alone. Check your gear, and gather up any supplies that you need."

"Why the change of plans," Galahad asked Dayn as they dismounted.

"How should I know? I leave all that up to Arthur. Besides, leaving the caravan means one less group of Romans that I have to worry about, so it suits me just fine. Don't question good fortune, Galahad."

"Yes, but still...It's not like the Romans to change their minds. Makes me think something is wrong."

"Galahad, you tire me with your incessant worry." Giving Galahad a hearty slap on the shoulder, Dayn left to find fresh bandages. His wound seemed to be healing nicely, but he wanted the bandages on hand just in case.

They rode out shortly thereafter, and Dayn relished the feeling of the wind on his face, the bracing cold energizing him. But it wasn't long before his foul mood began to reassert itself. As they neared Bremenium, he found himself clenching the reins in a tight fist. The thought of putting down a bunch of villagers who were only fighting for the right to live their lives without Roman interference grated on him. He rode up to Arthur's side, and reined his horse in, knowing Arthur would follow suit.

"Arthur, couldn't we just go back? No one would have to know."

"Dayn, you know we cannot do that," Arthur said, pity in his eyes.

"Arthur, please...these people...they're just simple peasants."

"I'm sorry, Dayn. I do not like it either, but we have our orders." Arthur spurred his horse into a slow canter, leaving Dayn to stare after him with worry in his eyes as he struggled to figure a way out.

* * *

**A/N: **Please read and review, everyone! I love getting feedback from people! 

**aelfa**: Thanks for the review...I hope you keep reading!

**ModestySparrow9:** I emailed you...don't know if you got it or not, let me know...but if you didn't—thanks for reviewing!

**Nimue26**: Thanks, Nimue...Yeah, I'm trying to do something a little different, and while I'm still not sure exactly where I'm going with this, I'm having fun in the process. Dayn isn't so much doing what he's doing just for Orainne, but rather because he hates the Romans...there's a backstory there, but I'm not sure where to tie it in yet. Orainne is an added bonus for him. Anyways, I'll keep updating, if you'll keep reviewing ;)


	4. Chapter 4: The Repercussions of Rage

Disclaimer: I'm so tired of writing a disclaimer...at this point, I think we all know that I don't own anything but the original characters that I've added.

A/N: Please note that I found it necessary to increase Dayn's age slightly, so he is now 19 years old, rather than 17. I hated to do this, because I don't like to change things a lot after they've been uploaded, but I had to do it for the sake of my sanity, and the story.

Chapter 4—The Repercussions of Rage

It became increasingly obvious when they rode into Bremenium that the town was engulfed in chaos. Fires raged, filling the air with a smoke-laden haze. Screaming could be heard throughout the small village, as peasants came up against trained Roman soldiers.

"Spread out," Arthur called. "Tristan, Aldric—that way," he said, pointing east. He sent each of the knights off in pairs, relying on them to watch out for each other. Dayn found himself with Gawain, a surprise since Gawain was usually paired with Galahad, but Dayn didn't mind. Gawain was a good fighter, and he could hold his own in any fight.

As he and Gawain took off in the direction that Arthur pointed them in, Dayn sincerely hoped that the madness would take him, for he did not wish for awareness if he was forced to kill the simple villagers. If the opportunity arose to kill Romans when Gawain wasn't watching, Dayn knew he would take it in an instant.

And then the fight was on them, and they waded unceremoniously into the middle of a skirmish between a small group of soldiers and a large number of peasants. Some of the peasants were fighting, but many more of them were simply trying to get out of the way, Dayn noticed. As he fought his way with Gawain, he was careful not to make killing blows if he could help it. _Maybe they'll live to fight the Romans another day_. The skirmish was so mild in comparison to their usual battles that Dayn found himself surprisingly coherent in thought, with none of the usual madness that took him. _That's probably a good thing, considering I'm trying not to kill anyone,_ Dayn thought.

Before long, the peasants were giving way under the combined efforts of the two knights and the Roman soldiers, and soon, most were running. To his left, Dayn suddenly spotted something that made his blood freeze in his veins. A small boy, no older than two, ran out from under a wagon, tears streaming down his face as he wailed for someone. _Where's the boy's mother?_ He hurried to reach the boy, knowing that the child was in danger in the streets. But before he could reach him, one of the Roman soldiers grabbed the boy, hauling him up by his tunic. With a sneer of disgust, the Roman gazed at the boy before dropping him, and with a quick swing of his sword, killed him.

Dayn felt the familiar red haze of battle madness coming over him as he rushed for the Roman, enraged. The soldier turned around just in time to parry Dayn's sword. But he was no match for Dayn's rage. With a guttural yell, Dayn drove his sword into the soldier's abdomen, feeling a distant sense of satisfaction as it pierced the Roman's body. Jerking his sword out, he swung back for one more strike, cleaving the soldier's head from his body in one clean blow.

Without thought, Dayn turned to find another opponent, and luckily another Roman was waiting to oblige. Time had ceased to have any meaning as he let his fury take him, driving him to continue swinging his sword in a ceaseless campaign of slaughter. A scream of horror finally pulled him back from the edge, and he watched as a young woman ran forward, her face contorting in agony as she cradled the body of the little boy in her hands. Dayn watched as she sobbed, not knowing what to do.

"Dayn." It was Arthur's voice, Dayn knew, and he could feel himself slipping away again as the anger welled up. He fought it, but he knew his control was slim. He slowly turned, his eyes skimming past the other knights who had gathered around him, to face Arthur.

"We should not have come here, Arthur," he said coldly, his eyes flat and unemotional even as he was filled with rage and turmoil inside. He turned back to the woman, watching as she vented her sorrow in a seemingly endless wail. She looked up at Dayn, confusion and pain on her features, as she seemed to ask him why any of this had happened.

"Dayn, we need to go," Dagonet said softly, coming to stand behind him.

"Yes, I think we've done enough here." With that, Dayn turned and went to find his horse, heedless of the bodies that littered the ground around him. Dagonet watched his retreat with a worried expression on his face, turning when Aldric came up beside him.

"How many did he kill," he asked Aldric, knowing instinctively that he may not want to hear the answer.

"The whole unit—twelve in all."

"Did you see him?" The two men turned as Cei approached. "I arrived a few minutes after Dayn killed the first one. I've never seen anything like that."

"Cei, he's always gone mad during battle. You know that."

"Yes, but this...this was something else entirely. He even scared me. I think if one of us had gone near him then, he would have killed us, too, without a second thought." Cei shook his head and spotting Gawain, headed off to see if Gawain could tell him anything else. Dagonet turned back to Aldric as Cei moved away.

"Has Arthur said anything?"

"No," Aldric answered. After a moment of consideration, he continued. "I don't think he will. Gawain told him what happened. How that Roman killed that boy. He won't say so, but I think he's glad that Dayn did what he did."

"I think we're going to be feeling the repercussions of this day for a long time, Aldric." Aldric didn't reply, for he had the feeling that Dagonet was right.

* * *

Dayn pushed Brina, willing her to go faster. He needed Orainne. He needed her to get his mind off of what had happened. He kept seeing that little boy's face, the terror in his eyes right before he was killed. The others were giving him a wide berth, for which Dayn was grateful. He didn't want to speak to anyone about what had happened. No doubt Arthur was going to want to talk to him about the incident, but Dayn was none too willing to comply. 

_It's all Arthur's fault,_ he thought irrationally. _He made me come here. _Finally, Arthur called a halt, and Dayn pulled Brina to a halt impatiently.

"Why are we stopping," he asked angrily.

"The horses are tired, and so is everyone else. We'll rest for the night, and pick back up in the morning."

"We're not that far from the Wall. We should keep going."

"No. It's been a long day, and I think we could all use some rest."

"Well, of course, Arthur, if that's what _you_ think is best," he responded sarcastically.

"Who are we to say anything differently?" He angrily dismounted, leading his horse away from the others, and set to work unsaddling the great beast.

"Dayn..." He turned at Lancelot's voice, wondering what Lancelot could possibly have to say to him. He said nothing, waiting for Lancelot to speak his piece and leave him alone. "You shouldn't hold it against Arthur. What happened today wasn't his fault."

"I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter, Lancelot. It doesn't matter, now, does it? That boy is still dead, no matter whose fault it is." Dayn turned back to his horse, clearly dismissing Lancelot. But Lancelot wasn't finished yet.

"Dayn, things happen, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to change it."

"I don't want to talk about this. Go back with the others, and leave me be."

"You know Arthur is going to want to speak with you."

"Yes, well, right now I don't give a damn what Arthur wants." Dayn turned his back on Lancelot and pulled out his bedroll, spreading it across the ground. He lay down, wrapping his cloak tightly around his frame to ward off the cold, and closed his eyes. Sleep beckoned, but before he could drift off, he heard a voice calling his name. Opening his eyes, he saw Arthur crouched down next to him.

"Dayn, I need you to tell me what happened today."

"No. As I told Lancelot, I do not wish to speak of it."

"Dayn, I can't just let this go. I need to know what happened in case someone questions me about it."

"Why don't you just lie?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Why? Would it anger your god," he asked derisively.

"Dayn," Arthur said, sternly.

"What do you want me to tell you, Arthur," he yelled suddenly. He exploded upward, taking Arthur by surprise as he came to stand before him. "Do you want me to tell you how that Roman bastard killed that boy with a smile on his face? Or maybe you want me to tell you how he looked as his insides spilled out of his body! Or the look on his mother's face as she saw her son lying on the ground like he was nothing!"

"Dayn, I'm sorry about the boy." Deep down, Dayn knew that Arthur meant what he said, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter.

"Do you think your pity changes anything, Arthur? I'm sure the boy's mother wouldn't think so. Her son is dead!" Dayn fell silent, taking a moment to regain his composure before he began again, this time in an almost eerily calm voice. "We should not have been there, Arthur. They were peasants, not warriors. But you ordered us to cut them down like dogs."

"I didn't like being there any more than you did, but I..."

"If we hadn't interfered, those peasants may have been able to overcome the soldiers, and then maybe that little boy needn't have been killed." He felt his eyes start to well up, and he turned away, embarrassed by the show of emotion. Arthur reached out, putting his hand on Dayn's shoulder, but Dayn shrugged it off angrily. "Do you know what I see when I close my eyes? I see that little boy being murdered in front of me, and then I see his mother's eyes staring up at me, blaming me."

"Dayn, it wasn't your fault. That soldier was wrong to have killed that child—you and I both know that."

"Just let me alone, Arthur. I can't talk about this anymore." Arthur gazed at him for a moment more before he nodded and slowly walked away. Dayn could see the other knights sitting around the fire, and he knew with certainty that they had all been listening. But he didn't care. He walked back to his bedroll, but didn't lie down because he knew that sleep was far away now.

He sat down, his back to the fire, struggling to picture Orainne's face instead of the little boy. He started when Bors came up beside him, clearing his throat hesitantly. Dayn looked up at him curiously, knowing that Bors wasn't generally one to lecture or offer condolences.

"Listen. I just wanted you to know that...well, I'd have done the same if it were me. I've got twelve little ones of my own, you know."

"Eleven, Bors."

"Eleven what?"

"You have _eleven_ little ones, not twelve."

"Oh, that. I'll have twelve before long, you just wait. I'm a virile man, you know."

Dayn chuckled, glad that Bors was there. He wasn't outwardly comforting, but he could cheer someone up with little effort. And somehow, it felt good to know that someone didn't hold his actions against him.

"I wish it hadn't been me, Bors," he said, his smile fading.

"Yeah." Bors was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, allowing Dayn's words to sink in before he turned with a half-smile on his face. "You know what? I think you could use some ale."

"That sounds nice, Bors. Do you have any with you?"

"Course not. Arthur won't let me—you know that. On account of what happened last time, you know." _Oh yes...that's a tale we still laugh about. When Bors isn't around, of course. _It wasn't exactly his best moment. "Tell you what, though. As soon as we get back, I'll buy you a drink." They were silent for a few moments, and Dayn was glad that it had been Bors to come over.

"Thanks, Bors." They both knew he wasn't just talking about the ale. Bors sat there with Dayn, saying nothing for a long time until Dayn finally settled back down on his bedroll, closing his eyes as exhaustion finally won out.

Arthur waited until he was sure Dayn was asleep before gathering the knights around him at the fire.

"Now, we know that the peasants will not speak of what they saw this day, but we need to know for sure that there were no Roman soldiers who escaped to witness what happened. Did anyone see anything?"

"Arthur," Cei began sheepishly, "I don't think any of us were paying attention to the Romans...we were all watching Dayn at the time. I know I was."

"Your honesty is appreciated, Cei, but not useful. Anyone else?"

"Didn't Dayn kill all the Romans standing around him," Galahad asked.

"It looked that way to me, Arthur," Aldric said, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. "But I just don't know, because I'm not sure Dayn was coherent enough to be concerned with witnesses. He just wanted blood."

"Tristan, did you see anything," Arthur asked, turning his eyes on the quiet scout.

"When Dayn's madness subsided, there were twelve bodies on the ground. When he left, there were only eleven," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the dirk he was sharpening. Arthur met Lancelot's eyes over the fire, his worry evident.

"Could you recognize the missing soldier if you saw him again, Tristan?" Tristan merely looked at Arthur, implying with just his gaze that the question was unwarranted. Finally, he nodded, returning his attention to the dirk in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tristan, but I need you to ride back and track down the last soldier." With a nod, Tristan stood, slipping the dirk back into his boot before leaving the light of the fire to saddle his horse. "Caderyn, Lancelot, go with him." Arthur followed them as they went to their horses to mount up. "Gentlemen, we can afford no mistakes. Take care of it." With resolute nods, Tristan and Lancelot began to ride off, but Caderyn paused before Arthur.

"Don't worry, Arthur," he said, offering a hopeful smile. "We know what to do." Then, clucking softly to his mare, he followed after the others, and soon the three men were swallowed up by darkness. _Please, God_, Arthur prayed, _let them be successful._

In the wee hours of the morning, the three knights returned, and with a nod, Tristan indicated that all had been taken care of.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry about including the murder of the little boy, but I had to have something traumatic enough to spur Dayn into killing the Roman soldiers in front of everyone. So, if anyone was really bothered by the little boy's death, I apologize. Also, I know that the very end moved quickly, but I didn't want to get bogged down by the knights' return to Bremenium, so I just had to let it end quickly in order to get to the next chapter. Anyways, please review--I love reviews! 

**chiefhow: **I'm glad to know that you find Dayn interesting. And of course he's hot. I found it interesting that you see Dayn and Lancelot as similar, because I really never thought of them that way. They do both show signs of a temper, though. The difference in them is that Lancelot has more of that flirtatious, good-natured side, whereas Dayn is quite broody. Thanks for all the compliments! Keep reviewing for me!

**ModestySparrow9: **Alas, I haven't gotten an email sniffle . I delayed uploading, in the off chance that the email would come, but I couldn't wait any longer. Hey, question for you...I hope this doesn't sound stupid, but what did you mean when you said Lancelot was a "pish posh"? I've been trying to figure that out, and it's driving me nuts! Camlann is the site of Arthur's last battle, where he and Mordred met their ends. Yeah, I'm trying to get that smart aleck side of Dayn's personality to come out, but I'm not sure if I'm managing it effectively. But it makes for interesting interactions, doesn't it? I have a really good scene written between Lance and Dayn for a later chapter that is quite entertaining...more to come, so keep reading and reviewing!

**HGandRHrforever: **Thanks for reviewing...glad you liked the Dayn and Lancelot interaction. As I told ModestySparrow9, there's an entertaining scene between those two that will be forthcoming...Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.


	5. Chapter 5: A Defiance of Orders

Disclaimer: Disclaimers are a pain...I'm already to the point where I'm just copying and pasting my old disclaimers so I don't have to write them anymore...at this point, I think we all know that I don't own anything but the original characters that I've added.

Chapter 5—A Defiance of Orders

The mood was grim when morning dawned, for no one had gotten much sleep. Dayn was eager to get moving, knowing instinctively that he would feel better if he were with Orainne. Nightmares had plagued his sleep, and he felt as though he hadn't slept at all.

His sword felt heavy at his side, and to Dayn, it was merely one more burden that he was being forced to endure. _I'm so tired of this. The fighting, the killing...so much blood. _Once again, he could see the blood pooling on the ground under the little boy, the jeering look on the Roman's face..._Why can't I stop thinking about it? _The world seemed to assail him, as he struggled to retreat from the thoughts that afflicted him. The sky seemed too blue, and the horses' hooves striking the ground too loud. When they stopped to rest the horses, Dayn started to walk away from the others, desperate for some modicum of silence.

"Dayn, you need to eat something," Aldric said from behind him.

"I'm not hungry." The mere thought of food served to turn his stomach. Guilt gnawed at him, and he berated himself for not having moved fast enough to save the boy. _If only I had moved faster, I could have stopped that Roman from killing him. He was only a small boy—he didn't know what he was doing._ Dayn didn't know how long he was lost in his thoughts, and he was only vaguely aware of mounting up again as the knights continued the ride back to the wall.

Thus, the rest of the journey passed, blessedly uneventful, but none too pleasant. Tristan, Caderyn, and Lancelot were all exhausted from their nighttime excursion back to Bremenium. Dayn's nightmares had assured that neither Dayn nor the majority of the other knights had gotten much sleep, and so it was easy to see that no one was particularly rested.

So it was with relief that the knights returned to the wall. In the stables, they all quickly began to unsaddle the horses, ready to go to their rooms and sleep.

"I could sleep for days," Galahad said tiredly.

"I concur," Aldric said, rubbing his lower back as he turned to his horse.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep well last night. Your nightmares are hell on us, Dayn," Cei said, good-naturedly ribbing Dayn.

"What are you talking about," Dayn said crossly, turning to face Cei. Behind Dayn, Aldric was frantically gesturing at Cei to say nothing more on the subject, but as usual, Cei was oblivious.

"You were calling out in your sleep—kept us up all night. Except for Bors, you know, because he can sleep through anything."

"Well, forgive me, Cei, for interrupting your sleep," Dayn responded caustically. "I'm sorry my nightmares were so rough on you," he snarled. Draping his saddle over the door to Brina's stall, he slung his saddlebags onto his shoulder and went to leave, just as Jols came in.

"Arthur said for everyone to stay close, and to stay sober. There may be another mission coming."

"Damn," Bors complained loudly. "There goes my plans."

Dayn let his saddlebags drop to the ground. "What," he exclaimed angrily. Jols took a step back, knowing that Dayn was very close to snapping.

"Dayn," Aldric said, guardedly.

"Why can't they let us have a moment's peace!?" With a roar, he picked up the discarded saddlebags and hurled them at the wall. Grabbing up his sword, he headed for the door, murder in his eyes.

"Stop him," Gawain said anxiously. Dagonet, Bors, Lancelot, and Caderyn formed a circle around him, mindful of the sword he held in his hands, while Galahad and Tristan moved to block the door.

"Get out of my way," Dayn yelled.

"Put the sword down, Dayn," Dagonet said calmly.

"Come, Dayn, it is not worth it. You know you won't get very far," Caderyn said, his tone cajoling.

"Move!"

"It's no use, lads. We're going to have to wrestle it out of his hands," Aldric murmured from behind them. They needed a distraction, and Lancelot obliged without a word. Stepping forward, he pulled one of his twin swords out of its scabbard.

"You'll have to fight me, first, Dayn." With a roar, Dayn lunged for Lancelot, heedless of the danger. What Dayn lacked in finesse, he more than made up for with brute force as he brought his sword down ferociously. While Lancelot expertly parried his blows, the others moved around behind Dayn, and when the moment was right, Lancelot stepped back and Bors and Dagonet tackled Dayn, taking him down to the floor. Caderyn stepped forward, plucking the sword from Dayn's hand. With a scream of outrage, Dayn fought them like a wild animal, not even aware of what he was doing. Somehow they all knew that he needed to fight them, that he needed the opportunity to let out some of his pain and frustration before it consumed him.

Finally, Dayn slumped to the ground, too exhausted to fight anymore. Sweat poured down his face, obscuring his vision, and hiding the tears that had filled his eyes. His breath came in hard gasps, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Bors and Dagonet rose, releasing their holds on Dayn, allowing him to sit up. Dagonet put a hand on his shoulder, and Dayn looked up at him, pain still evident in his eyes.

"It'll be okay, boy." Dayn buried his head in his hands, trying to erase the guilt and the anger that swirled inside him. "You need some sleep, Dayn. There's an herb that the local healers speak of...it will help you sleep," Dagonet said quietly. Dayn nodded in lieu of a response, knowing that he had no intention of actually taking the herb.

Dagonet walked Dayn to his room, Galahad calling out as they left the stables that he would see to Dayn's horse. At the door to Dayn's room, Dagonet patted him on the shoulder. "I'll be back soon with that herb, Dayn." Dayn watched him until he was out of sight, then turned and grabbed his hooded cloak and a spare dagger. _The Veli take Arthur and his orders. _Pulling the cloak around his shoulders, he drew the hood up around his face and ran for the gate.

He didn't notice Tristan observing him through watchful eyes.

* * *

Dayn charged through the underbrush, heedless of anyone hearing him. He had only one thought on his mind, to get to Orainne. Suddenly, a hand materialized, grabbing him by the arm. His hand dropped to the dagger at his side, before he realized who it was.

"Dayn, you make enough noise for the entire forest to know of your coming," Tadhg said, a grin on his face. The grin faded, however, as he saw the look of desperation in Dayn's eyes. "What ails you, Dayn?"

"I need to see Orainne."

"Ah. Come then, I will lead you in, for you are entirely too noisy, my friend." Dayn nodded, allowing Tadhg to take the lead.

When he came to the village, Orainne was sitting on the ground, examining the heap of plants and herbs that were arranged around her. As if sensing his gaze upon her, she looked up and their eyes met. Her face lit up with excitement, and she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh, Dayn, I've missed you so!" He lifted her in his arms, as he lowered his head to kiss her. Their lips met, and he felt an immediate sense of peace come over him. She gently broke away, looking at him with worry in her eyes. "Are you alright?" Looking down at her earnest face, he slowly smiled.

"I am now." Hand in hand, they walked towards the forest, craving their time alone together.

"How long can you stay?"

"Arthur wanted us to stay close."

"Then...you ignored his orders?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"But won't you get in trouble?"

"I care not anymore, Orainne." He kissed her then, his arms pulling her close, feeling the warmth of her against him. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, and he smiled against her lips as her fingers ran through his hair. _She always has liked to play with my hair._ His hand moved to her waist, bunching the fabric of her dress in his fist as he moved to lift it. Before their interlude could move any further however, he heard a rustling in the brush nearby. He turned, pushing Orainne behind him protectively as he moved to grip his dagger.

Donal stepped out of the bushes, his face turning red, for at twelve years old, Donal well knew what he had interrupted. "I'm sorry, but Illbrech asked me to come for you, Dayn."

"What the hell for," Dayn asked crossly. It seemed as though he and Orainne never got a moment alone.

"I do not know. He just said to bring you back. It sounded important, though." As the leader of this band of Woads, Illbrech had sole authority, and Dayn really had little choice but to do as requested and accompany Donal back to the village. With a muttered curse, Dayn fell in behind Donal, leading Orainne behind him.

When they reached Illbrech's hut, Dayn turned back to Orainne, an apologetic look on his face. "Tonight," he promised. Smiling, she nodded and went back to the herbs that still lay scattered on the ground where she had left them. With a sigh, Dayn entered Illbrech's hut, wondering why the elder wanted to see him.

"Dayn, come in. Sit by me." Nodding, Dayn took a seat across from the elder man, hoping he would get to the point. He took a moment to study Illbrech, knowing that Illbrech would only speak when he was good and ready. Illbrech's hair fell to his waist, the rich brown of his youth having given way to the grayness of age. His blue eyes met Dayn's own, making Dayn uncomfortable. Like Tristan, Illbrech's gaze was uncanny in its ability to seemingly cut right through a person. Dayn felt as though his soul was laid bare by Illbrech's stare, and he quickly averted his eyes.

"I have received word from one of the northern tribes. The leader there, Merlin, wants to speak with you."

"Merlin? I have heard of him. But what does he want with me?"

"It is not for me to question Merlin. You will go to him."

"When?"

"Now."

"But I can't go now...I don't have my horse, and it would take hours."

"He will meet you halfway. Shed your armor and leave it here. You'll run faster without it."

"How did Merlin know that I would agree to meet him," Dayn asked as he reluctantly stood.

"Merlin knows. That is all I can tell you." Dayn took his armor off, leaving it in the corner of the hut.

"How will I know where to find him?"

"Tadhg will guide you. Go now." Dayn met Tadhg outside and they began to run, sliding through the trees effortlessly.

* * *

"Where is he, Tadhg?" The sun was setting, and there had been no sign of Merlin. Dayn was ready to leave. The edge of exhaustion hovered at the edge of his consciousness, and he wanted nothing more than to get back to Orainne.

"He will come when the time is right."

"Yes, well, I don't exactly have a lot of time to spare, Tadhg. I'm on borrowed time as it is—I was not meant to leave the fort, and Arthur is already going to have my head." Suddenly, the wind ceased to blow, and Dayn looked around, sensing the change in the environment. A figure appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows and causing Dayn to step back.

"I have heard many tales of you, Dayn of Sarmatia." Dayn nodded his head respectively, but refrained from comment, waiting for Merlin to continue. Merlin stepped closer, coming to a stop in front of Dayn. "You fight with those who would kill us, but you also fight with us."

"My hatred for Rome runs deeper than any imagined grudge I have against yourpeople."

"You serve the one called Artorius Castus."

"Yes," Dayn said cautiously. _Where is he leading with this line of questioning?_

"There will come a time when Arthur and I must meet."

"Surely you jest. Arthur hates the Woads. What leads you to believe that he will meet with you? He'd just as soon kill you as look at you."

"The time is near," Merlin said, ignoring Dayn's remark. "When that day comes, you must do what you can to bring Arthur to me."

"How will I know when it's time?"

"You will know," Merlin said elusively. _Well, that's vague,_ Dayn thought sarcastically.

He looked to Tadhg, asking him with his eyes if he knew what Merlin was talking about.

Tadhg shrugged, and Dayn turned back to Merlin helplessly. But Merlin was no longer there.

"Damn him," Dayn said viciously. "How does he expect me to help if I don't know what the hell is expected of me?" He kicked at a branch near his feet, venting his frustration before turning back towards the trees. "Come, Tadhg. Orainne waits for me." Dayn picked up his pace, and Tadhg grinned at the eager expression on Dayn's face.

* * *

Dayn woke up, feeling pleasantly drowsy after the late night he'd shared with Orainne. _It sure as hell beat spending a night alone in his room back at the wall, _he thought. She still lay next to him, curled up against his side. He smiled, gently kissing the top of her hair. She woke then, lifting her head to look at him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she lifted her hand to his chest, her fingers trailing upward, tracing the bottom of the dragon tattoo that began on his face and ended at his collarbone. They kissed, and Dayn turned onto his side, reaching for her. With a reluctant smile, she gently pulled away.

"We shouldn't Dayn...we've tarried too long. You must return to the wall." He sighed, knowing she was right, but not happy about it.

"Very well." Standing, he donned his clothing, wishing that he didn't have to go. He sat on the edge of the pallet they shared to pull on his boots, smiling when Orainne slid her arms around him from behind, kissing his neck sweetly.

"Try to come back soon, Dayn."

"You know I will do my best." Reluctantly, he kissed her goodbye and left the village behind.

He considered running, but just as quickly discarded the idea. _I've already disobeyed orders. Why hurry now? A little longer will make no difference._

* * *

He made it back inside the wall without interference, but as he entered the garrison, he was suddenly approached by four Roman soldiers.

"Dayn of Sarmatia?" Dayn nodded, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. _What could they possibly want? _His first thought was that they had somehow learned of his treason. _But how could they know of that?_ "You will come with us," the captain of the guard told him callously.

"For what purpose," he asked guardedly.

"You are to be confined in the garrison prison until your commander sees fit to come for you."

"On what grounds?"

"Desertion, disobeying orders—whichever you prefer."

"Desertion? That's madness. I was gone for a mere day, if even that. And I'm here now, aren't I?"

"The length of your absence is irrelevant. Now, will you come peacefully, or must we do this the hard way?"

Having only a dagger on his person, Dayn knew that a fight with the soldiers would be hard won, but he couldn't see that he had many options. Fight or submit, and Dayn was never one to submit. He pulled the dagger from the sheath at his side, backing away so that the Romans would have to come for him.

"Very well, then," the captain said, a cruel gleam in his eye. He motioned the soldiers forward, and his three men came at Dayn in a rush. He sidestepped, and swiped at the closest Roman as he passed, his dagger cutting a deep furrow in the man's back. _One down, two to go_, Dayn thought satisfactorily. The other two approached more cautiously this time around, and when one moved in with a vicious swing, Dayn swept in under his reach, stabbing him in the abdomen with enough force to throw the man backward. Dayn instantly dismissed the man, knowing that he posed no further threat. He turned to the third soldier, pleased to note that the man looked hesitant. Before Dayn could make a move toward him, however, six more soldiers rushed to the aid of their comrades, and Dayn knew without a doubt that things were about to take a turn for the worse.

It only took a few moments before the combined efforts of the six soldiers had Dayn restrained. As the captain had chains brought out, he struggled against the soldiers holding him, but to no avail.

"Keep fighting, boy. Give me an excuse to kill you," the captain said, a malevolent gleam in his eye.

"Yes, how well I know the Roman thirst for blood," Dayn said coldly. He stilled, knowing the Roman would indeed slay him with little provocation. As the cold iron was secured around his wrists, he knew that things could get ugly. _Where is Arthur when I need him?_ He could only hope that Arthur would come for him soon, for left in the hands of the Romans for too long, he had little chance of leaving unscathed.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the choppiness of some of those last scenes, but I'm trying not to get bogged down with the scenes that aren't as important...just bear with me here. Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, the Veli are the souls of the dead in Latvian mythology...I tried to find a more Celtic or British equivalent, but I wasn't having much luck, so I decided to just stick with the Veli...they sounded cool, and they captured the essence of what I wanted Dayn to say, so just pretend :)

**ModestySparrow9: **As far as Lancelot goes, I tend to swing back and forth between love and hate...depends on the story for me, because in some stories, he's awesome, and in others he gets on my nerves. As for Arthur...it's difficult for him because he's torn between his orders, his men, and God. That can't be easy for him, and I give him definite points for doing the best that he can. It's tricky, because Dayn cares for and respects Arthur, but at the same time, Arthur represents everything that keeps Dayn from his freedom. So...anyways, don't hate Arthur too much...keep reading for me, and update your story soon!

**When Fire Meets Ice:** Well, you wanted to know what kind of trouble Dayn found next—how was that? Thanks for the compliments!

**chiefhow: **Yes, Tristan does notice everything, doesn't he? In the coming chapter, I plan to have some fun with Tristan...you'll probably pick up on it quickly, as I've mentioned something along those lines before in my reviews for your story...what's it called again—you changed the name... "the Fanfic Formerly Known As _A Sarmatian Adventure_"...anyways, if you don't quite get what I'm saying, I'm sure you will with the coming chapter, provided I can get the scene to work like I want it. As for Bors...yes, he's great! What would we do without him?


	6. Chapter 6: Vengeful Manipulations

Disclaimer: Alas, I only own that which I invented in the recesses of my imagination.

A/N: Tristan-lovers rejoice, for I am introducing a Tristan-centric subplot. I don't know where exactly it's leading, but it's something at least. The story will continue to focus mostly on Dayn, but there will be Tristan scenes interspersed throughout. Let me know how you like it—R&R!

Chapter 6—Vengeful Manipulations

The cold had long since become a part of him, seeping into his bones as surely as it had seeped into his heart. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, knowing that the gesture was futile, but hoping to guard against some of the chill nonetheless. Coming from one of the northern Sarmatian tribes, cold did not generally bother him very much, but the chill in the dank garrison prison cut through him with biting intensity. Thoughts of vengeance were all that drove him, as hunger gnawed at his stomach. The guard hadn't brought him any food since that first day when Dayn had thrown it back at him. But even if the guard had brought more, Dayn would not have eaten it. It would have followed the same path that the earlier meal had taken. Apparently, the guard was smart enough to realize that.

His hands still chained in front of him, he remained slumped against the far corner where the soldiers had thrown him after the last beating. He tasted blood on his tongue from the cut at the corner of his mouth, and he spit onto the floor. The cut at his hairline had stopped bleeding the day before, but the headache persisted, and Dayn fervently missed Dagonet—he always had headache remedies on hand, as Bors was generally nursing a hangover in the mornings. But the pain in his head was nothing compared to the rage that smoldered in his heart. He gazed down at the brand they'd placed on the inside of his forearm, the mark of a deserter. Pride warred with shame as he looked upon the object of his dishonor. _Someone would pay for this disgrace. Honor demanded it._

Dayn glanced up, his eyes narrowing as he heard the creak of the prison door. Two soldiers opened the door of his cell, allowing two others to carry someone else in. Dropping their burden in a heap near the door, they stepped back, allowing Dayn a first glimpse at this new guest. Hearing a moan, Dayn took a closer look, curious as to the other occupant of the small prison. _What's a woman doing in the garrison prison?_ She didn't move, and Dayn realized that she was unconscious.

"Do the mighty Romans feel threatened by women, now" Dayn asked mockingly, a cocky half-smile on his face that would have put Lancelot to shame.

"Do you need to be reminded of Rome's might," one of them said threateningly. Dayn's face became devoid of all emotion as he gazed back at the soldier with empty eyes. The man stepped back nervously as Dayn's eyes bore into his own. Seeing his comrade's nervousness, another stepped forward, delivering a vicious backhand to Dayn's face.

"You are not worthy to speak to us, Sarmatian filth. You will hold your tongue." Without warning, Dayn lunged forward, and wrapped the chain linking his shackles around the Roman's throat. "You beat innocent women, and have the nerve to call _me_ filth!" He tightened the chain, hoping fervently that the man's neck would snap from the force.

Suddenly, pain exploded in his head, and the world became an indistinct blur. _One of those Roman bastards hit me, _Dayn thought dimly. He was vaguely aware of falling to his knees as blows began to rain down on him from every side. When oblivion finally overcame him, it was a sweet release from the abuse they were inflicting upon him.

* * *

Dayn came awake, opening his eyes cautiously. He immediately regretted his actions as the pain in his head intensified. _This is the same damn headache I've had since I got here,_ he thought with annoyance. _It just keeps getting worse. _He lay curled on the cold stone floor, where he'd fallen. His body ached all over, a combination of bruises and the stiffness that came from lying in one position for too long. _At least my ribs aren't broken...sore as hell, but not broken._

"Are you alright?" He slowly turned his head, to see a young woman staring at him with worry in her eyes. _Who is she? How did she get here? Oh, yes...they brought her in last night. Or was it this morning? How long have I been unconscious? _Confused, he took a moment to study her. She was older than he, by perhaps eight or nine years, but she still retained the beauty of her youth. Her hair was a shade of blond, so light that it was almost white. Her eyes were a pale shade of green that reminded him of mist-covered grass. _Ok, she's not Orainne..._Evenin the weak light, Dayn could see the swelling of her jaw and the bruise that had blossomed at her temple from where she'd obviously been struck.

"Who are you?"

"Niamh." _As though that tells me anything. _He slowly sat up, groaning at the pain in his head as he moved to lean against the wall. She slowly came to him, careful to avoid tripping over the chain that secured his shackles to the wall. She knelt down beside him, slowly assessing his wounds with her eyes.

"You bleed," she said quietly, her Latin holding a decidedly British accent. Tearing a strip from the bottom of her dress, she leaned forward, carefully dabbing at the blood that dripped from the gash on his head. _Those bastards must have hit me in the same damn spot,_ Dayn thought irrationally.

"You are no Roman woman," he said quietly, switching to the Celtic tongue. Her face lit up in surprise, and she shook her head.

"No. I am a Briton. How did you come to speak our language?"

"Nevermind that," he said. "What reason do they cite for imprisoning you here?"

"One of the soldiers, he...wanted me to...to lie with him. But I refused."

"And he beat you for it," Dayn finished angrily. "Will your husband not stand for you?"

"My husband is dead," she said quietly.

"Father, then? Or brother?"

"No, I have no one," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I shall be forced to remain here until I yield."

"You yield to no Roman, do you understand? He is beneath you."

"What choice do I have," she said tearfully.

"I won't let them keep you here," he said decisively.

"But you are stuck here as well. How will you do anything?"

"I won't be here forever." _Provided that Arthur comes for me soon._ She wiped the tears from her face, and put on a brave smile for him.

"Here," she said, bringing a water skin up to his mouth. He shoved it away angrily. "I will die of thirst before I drink what they have provided."

"That is foolish," she said sternly.

"Don't speak to me of foolishness, woman. You know me not." He closed his eyes, clearly dismissing her, as his head continued to pound. Niamh fell silent, and Dayn welcomed the quiet, as he waited for sleep to come.

* * *

"Dayn." Dayn opened his eyes, searching for the source of the voice. He carefully lifted his head, looking toward the door.

"Arthur?" Sure enough, Arthur stood there, his frame filling the doorway. As he watched, Arthur walked closer, coming to the door of the cell. Dayn pulled his cloak around, covering the mark on his arm so that Arthur wouldn't see it.

"Yes. Are you alright?"

"Have you come for me," he asked, not answering Arthur's question.

"Of course. Did you think I wouldn't?" Truthfully, he had begun to doubt as time passed. A guard shouldered his way past Arthur, unlocking the cell door. He came forward, leaning down to unshackle the chains from Dayn's wrists. Dayn kicked out, failing to actually hit the guard, but succeeding in forcing him back.

"Don't touch me." The guard looked to Arthur, who sighed and stepped forward, taking the key from the guard's hand.

"You have never been one to do things the easy way, Dayn. I don't know why I assumed you would start now," Arthur said with a slight smile as he leaned down to unlock the shackles. His smile faded as he noticed the brand on Dayn's arm for the first time. Dayn met his eyes, his jaw clenching in anger as he struggled to hide his shame. Arthur glanced back down at the mark one more time, but said nothing as he inserted the key into the shackles.

As the shackles fell away, Dayn slowly stood, his head spinning. He grabbed at Arthur, trying to remain upright, and Arthur quickly took hold of him. He waited, unmoving, while Dayn attempted to stop the dizziness that assailed him. Arthur motioned behind him, and Tristan stepped forward from the shadows of the doorway, Dayn's confiscated gauntlets and dagger in hand. Sticking the dagger in the waistband of his tunic, he shifted the gauntlets to one hand in case Arthur needed him to help. Dayn motioned Tristan away, for his pride could only take so much—he would walk out of here on his own two feet. He slowly started for the door, allowing Arthur to steady him as the world continued to spin lazily around him.

Over Tristan's shoulder, Dayn saw Niamh gazing desolately at him from the opposite corner. "Wait," he said, clutching Arthur's arm. "The woman, Arthur. Don't leave her here."

"What was her crime?"

"One of those soldiers wants her for himself. She is here only because she refused him."

Tristan looked over at the girl in the corner, intrigued despite himself. _Pretty._ _No wonder the Roman wants her._ As his dark eyes bore into her, she met his with a bold stare, raising her chin. Underneath the bravado, however, Tristan could see the fear and nervousness that she was struggling to hide.

"I'll take care of it, Arthur," Tristan said quietly, his eyes still locked on the girl.

"Very well, Tristan. I leave it in your hands." Arthur and Dayn started out of the prison, and Tristan turned to follow.

"I will return for you shortly," he said softly. "Be ready." Hope rose in her eyes, and she nodded, giving him a small smile.

* * *

Niamh sat quietly, waiting for the mysterious, dark-haired knight to return. She had no assurance that he was true to his word, but something told her not to fear. It was something in his eyes. There was danger there, certainly, but there was something else, something that told her that he would not break his promise.

It was not long before the door opened once more and the guard came in, pushed ahead by the stoic knight. "Release her."

"But...the captain...he wants...he'll kill me..."

"I'll kill you, if you don't do as I requested."

"On what grounds should I say I released her," the guard asked fearfully. Tristan shrugged nonchalantly.

"I care not. Tell him she's mine."

The guard considered carefully for a moment, but finally realized he really had no options. He unlocked the door, and Niamh came out of the cell gratefully. Tristan took hold of her arm above the elbow, and led her outside, barely deigning to look at her. He said nothing until they'd left the prison far behind them, before he suddenly stopped and turned to face her.

"You should leave this place. It is unsafe for you to remain here."

"But...I don't understand. Why am I still in danger here?"

"Do you think he will give up so easily?" She looked down, her hopes dashed. "I have nowhere to go," she said, tears filling her eyes. Tristan gazed down at her, feeling sympathy stir in his chest.

"Very well. Stay by my side, for a time. They will believe you are with me. Perhaps that will serve to hinder his interest." With a hesitant nod, she agreed to the bargain, and with that, he turned on his heel and began to walk towards the tavern.

"You haven't told me your name," she said softly.

"Tristan."

"I'm Niamh." He nodded brusquely, not slowing his pace in the least. He came to the tavern and pushed the door open, motioning for her to go ahead of him.

"You want me to go in there," she asked incredulously.

"That's where I'm going. So unless you want to go on alone, you'll come inside." Her eyes wide, she stepped forward hesitantly, before she squared her shoulders and marched resolutely inside. Tristan smiled, a rare occurrence for him, as he watched her walk into the tavern as though she owned it.

"Tristan, come have a drink," Bors yelled, holding up a jug of ale as Tristan walked inside. Niamh walked forward, heading straight for Bors as Tristan followed slowly at her heels. She took the proffered drink from Bors outstretched hand, thanking him sweetly before sitting down in an empty chair nearby. She gave Tristan a satisfied look, and he stalked forward, pulling her up out of the chair as Bors looked on curiously.

"That's Dayn's seat." She looked around, seeking him in the throng of people that filled the tavern.

"I don't see him anywhere."

"He'll be along," he responded brusquely. Niamh doubted that, because Dayn had looked none too steady on his feet when she'd last seen him, but she didn't argue.

"So where should I sit?" Not answering, he led her around the table to his customary seat, and with a whistle, gained the attention of one of the serving wenches. _She was about the only one paying attention, for the rest were making themselves available to the knights for something other than drinks. _

"Bring another chair." The wench moved to do as he said, returning quickly with another chair. He pointed Niamh to the chair, turning his attention to the drink that Caderyn passed him. But Niamh wasn't finished with him, yet.

"Who are these men?" With a sigh of annoyance, Tristan went through the knights one by one, pointing to each and offering their names to her. Those who were still sober greeted her, and she smiled in return. They were a boisterous group, sure enough, but surprisingly, they were not frightening.

Shortly thereafter, Dayn made his way inside, collapsing into his chair, and taking the ale that Lancelot handed him gratefully. He had taken the time to clean up, changing into a fresh tunic and pants, before coming to the tavern to get some much needed refreshment. His gauntlets were secure around his forearms, hiding the brand that now marred his skin. Most of his bruises were hidden underneath his clothing, so he looked none the worse for wear after his stay in the prison. His head still spun, but as long as he didn't make any sudden moves, it was manageable. _A little ale, and I'll be as good as new. _Leaning forward slowly, hepulled the serving wench off of Lancelot's lap and told her to get him something to eat, smiling evilly at the look of affront on Lancelot's face.

"Oh, cheer up, Lance. There's plenty more where she came from. She'll warm your lap again soon enough, if another does not." He took a big gulp of the ale, feeling refreshed as the liquid quenched his thirst.

Dagonet glanced at Aldric, warning him with his eyes to watch Dayn carefully. When he was drunk, anything could happen. Suddenly, a small figure maneuvered through the crowd, coming to a stop behind Dayn. Covering his eyes with small hands, a childish, high pitched voice said, "Guess who?"

Dayn smiled, playing along. "Is it...Dagonet?"

"Nope."

"Caderyn?"

"No, silly!"

"I give up! Who is it?"

"It's me, Dayn," the voice said gleefully. The hands left his eyes, and Dayn came face to face with the grinning figure of Bors' six-year-old daughter, affectionately dubbed Hummingbird for her tendency to flit to and fro. He didn't know her real name, because he could only recall Bors referring to her as Number 8. _Surely that's not her real name,_ Dayn thought as the little girl grinned up at him. She climbed up in his lap, making herself comfortable as she so often did. No matter how vigilantly Vanora watched the child, she still managed to come into the tavern frequently. "I fooled you," she said gaily.

"You sure did."

"You don't look good today. Did you bump your head?" He nodded, but she kept going, not waiting for his answer. "Number 10 does that all the time. But not so badly as you. That's a really nasty cut. Does it hurt?"

"Not so much, now." He sat back, allowing her to entertain him. Hummingbird resembled her mother in looks, with her reddish-blond hair and the freckles that adorned her nose, but her personality was all Bors. She always had a smile and a story to tell, with the latter not always being true, but nevertheless entertaining. Dayn looked up when he heard Vanora shout out at Bors from the door.

"Bors, you'll have to watch the little one," she said, plopping their youngest child squarely into Bors' lap.

"Aww, Vanora, I'm drinkin' here."

"Don't you even try to get out of it. If anything happens to that babe, I'm holding you personally responsible." She spun around, sweeping away to refill another jug for a group of travelers near the other end of the tavern. Bors looked down into the face of the little one in his lap. _Now...which one is this? Ten? Eleven? _As if sensing her father's confusion, the baby looked up at him, giving him a toothless grin. Bors smiled back down, pleased to see the resemblance she shared with him.

"She looks just like you," Niamh said, leaning forward from across the table. Bors smiled proudly, looking rather pleased with himself.

"She didn't necessarily mean that as a compliment, Bors," Lancelot said snidely from the other side of the table, a cocky smile on his face.

"Nonsense. May I hold her?" Bors passed the baby across to her gratefully, glad to get back to his ale. The baby settled into Niamh with a soft sigh, and Niamh slowly rocked the child back and forth. Sensing someone's eyes on her, she looked up to see Tristan watching her over the top of his mug. "Did you want to hold her, Tristan," she said with a smile.

"No," he replied curtly.

"Oh, I think you do. You just don't want to admit it." With a gleam in her eye, she set the baby on his lap, knowing that he would instinctively grab her to keep her from falling. With a happy squeal, the baby grabbed one of Tristan's braids, tugging on it playfully. Tristan looked down at the child in his arms with a look close to panic in his eyes. He looked to Niamh, begging her with his eyes to take the baby back, but Niamh had already turned away, looking on in amusement as one of the serving wenches tried to teach an inebriated Caderyn how to dance. Leaning back against Tristan, the baby reached up and patted his face before slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing into slumber.

Dayn watched the panic slowly recede from Tristan's eyes as the baby stilled, listening with one ear as Hummingbird continued to talk about everything from the small puppy she had to the latest exploits of Number 4 and Number 6. _Did Bors have his children calling each other by numbers? Surely not._ The door of the tavern opened and Dayn stilled as a very familiar Roman soldier came walking in. _Looks as though the Goddess of Fortune just turned her lovely eyes on me,_ Dayn thought with a sardonic smile.

"Go sit with your father," he said, cutting Hummingbird off in mid-sentence.

"But, Dayn..."

"Now," he said sharply. He set her down on the floor, nudging her in Bors' direction. He turned his attention back to the guard, watching as he came closer. Dayn waited until the man was about to pass by when he stuck his foot out, smiling as the Roman tripped, falling face-first onto the floor.

"You should watch out—it's easy to trip in here. You might get hurt." He gave the Roman a friendly smile that was belied by the cold gleam in his eyes.

"Dayn," Aldric spoke up, in a cautionary tone. "Watch it, boy. You can't afford another incident."

"Leave off, Aldric. This isn't your concern," he replied, his jaw clenched tight in anger, as he watched the Roman turn to face him.

"Did you trip me, Sarmatian?"

"I think you mistake me for your own clumsiness."

"Don't lie to me, boy!"

"What are you going to do," Dayn said, his voice taunting. "Are you going to teach me another lesson? Do you think you can? I should think not—after all, I'm no longer chained up. It's not easy to take on an armed man, is it?"

"You dare insult me, you Sarmatian cur!" He took a threatening step forward, and Dayn came to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the floor. His earlier dizziness was gone as a cold, deadly feeling overtook him.

"Better the Sarmatian cur than the Roman ass," he replied smartly.

The Roman, enraged, suddenly drew his sword, and Dayn smiled in triumph. He allowed the Roman to take one swipe at him with the sword before he pulled his dagger. He waited until the Roman overstepped, and then, sweeping around, he grabbed the man from behind, pulling his head back and neatly slicing his throat. The Roman grabbed at his throat as Dayn stepped away. The room was silent, everyone's attention riveted on the dying throes of the Roman guard. Hummingbird's face was buried in Bors' chest, and he silently rubbed her back, unconsciously soothing the child. Niamh stared at Dayn in silent horror. Vanora merely looked annoyed about the mess, obviously used to such incidents.

Dayn gazed down, unfeeling, as blood pooled beneath his feet. He knelt, wiping his dagger clean on the man's cloak before he righted his chair and sat back down to finish his ale. Lancelot slapped Dayn on the back in a congratulatory manner before he turned his attention back to the serving wench.

"Did you see that," Dayn heard Galahad ask Gawain. "That was cold...the way he just maneuvered that fellow into fighting him..." Dayn stood and leaned over, planting his fists on the table as he looked Galahad in the eyes.

"Perhaps you'd like to be locked up in a cell for three days while the Romans amuse themselves by beating you. Then, maybe you would understand."

"But, Dayn...you just killed that man, simply for walking in. You goaded him into fighting you, and then you murdered him."

"Ah, but Galahad, you forget—he drew first. I killed in self-defense, as anyone here could attest to."

"Well...technically, yes. But we all saw that you taunted him..."

"Yes, and he was stupid enough to fall for it, wasn't he?" Galahad looked down, wanting to say more, but knowing that there was nothing left to say. He glanced at the soldier's body, and with a sick look on his face, got up from the table and left. Dayn stared after him, his eyes narrowing before he turned to Gawain.

"Do you have anything to add, Gawain?"

"Um...how about another ale?" Gawain stared up at him with a sloppy grin, ale sloshing over the mug he held up as he fought to maintain his coordination. Dayn grinned suddenly, and took it from Gawain with a hearty slap on the back. He hardly gave a second glance as a few of the servants picked the dead Roman up off the floor, and serving wenches came to clean up the mess.

* * *

Bors held the ever wakeful Hummingbird on his lap, paying her no mind as she played a game of dice with Caderyn. Unfortunately, Tristan noticed, Caderyn was losing quite a bit of money to the small child and was too drunk to realize it. With strategy that was uncanny in a child her age, Hummingbird was well aware of Caderyn's drunkenness, and was taking advantage of it. It was certainly a gamble, for if Bors realized what she was doing, she would be made to give it all back. But it wasn't too much of a risk, Tristan knew, for the child was also aware of how drunk her father was.

Vanora walked over, taking the sleeping baby from Tristan's lap with a smile. "Thank you, Tristan. Goddess knows I can't count on Bors to watch more than one of the children at a time, and sometimes not even that." Tristan gave her a noncommittal grunt before turning his attention back to the activities of the various knights. Aldric had long ago decided to leave, not wanting to be around for the usual results of the knights' carousing. Dagonet would follow shortly, Tristan knew, after he had finished his third ale. A creature of habit, Dagonet was, much like Tristan himself. Gawain was singing, badly enough that the serving wenches were imbibing him with more ale in vain attempts to shut him up. Cei had passed out long ago, his head down on the table, his hand still on his mug of ale. Bors was watching Dayn and Lancelot compete with one another to see who could drink the most ale. _Not the smartest diversion, but you can't reason with those two,_ Tristan thought. _Well, with Lancelot, Arthur at least had a chance, but Dayn was another story. No one could reason with Dayn. _Tristan thought Dayn like a wild animal, for he reacted on instinct with little thought as to the consequences. There was a lot of pain underneath all of that anger, Tristan knew, but Dayn hid it well from the others.

Sensing movement to his left, Tristan turned, seeing Niamh struggling to keep her eyes open. He stood, holding his hand out to her. With bleary eyes, she looked up at him, and smiled. Taking his hand, she let him pull her to her feet before he led her from the tavern.

As they walked back towards the garrison where the knights were housed, Tristan allowed her to maintain a hold on his hand. He was uncomfortable with the intimacy—it was closer than he'd allowed anyone to get to him in a long time. It simply wasn't practical to let someone get so close. It was like handing someone the dagger with which to slit your throat.

"You aren't angry about me making you hold the baby, are you?"

"No." _Anger wasn't practical_, Tristan thought, _for it had no purpose_. It was nothing but a distraction, one that could prove fatal. That was one thing about Dayn that Tristan could never fully understand. How Dayn could allow himself to be so consumed by his anger was a mystery to Tristan.

"So what is it, then?"

"What are you referring to?"

"Why you do not speak to me."

"I do not speak because I have nothing of importance to say." Before she could reply, someone stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, jerking her away from Tristan.

"Stop," she cried, struggling to escape the figure. Tristan could see that it was a Roman, of considerable rank judging by his garb. Tristan pulled the dirk from his boot, and set his feet.

"Let her go."

"She's mine. You have no claim on her." In a surprising move, Niamh twisted out of the Roman's grip, rushing back to Tristan's side with a choked sob.

"Come near her again, and I will kill you," Tristan told him calmly, his voice betraying no emotion.

"If you kill me, my soldiers will hunt you down like an animal."

"Not if they think you died in an unfortunate accident. Think you I cannot make it look so?" The Roman looked startled at Tristan's words, and he paused while he considered whether Tristan was telling the truth. Seeing something in Tristan's eyes, he realized with fear that Tristan meant every word he said.

He looked at Niamh with licentious eyes, promising retaliation even as fear of Tristan forced him to back down this time. He fingered his sword hilt, and Tristan stepped forward, his eyes promising retaliation if the Roman drew a weapon. Seeing that he could not win, the Roman captain slowly withdrew, stepping back without taking his eyes off Tristan. Tristan maintained his grip on the dirk as he took Niamh's arm in a gentle, but firm grip. She looked up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he still held the dirk.

"I don't trust that one," he told her quietly the Roman vanished into the darkness. _This was far from over._

* * *

A/N: As far as Niamh's name goes, I've found two different ways of pronouncing it:

Nee-av or Nime...I personally like Nee-ma, but pronounce it any way you like. Also, I had to push back a promised scene between Lancelot and Dayn, because it just didn't fit into this chapter. But it should be in the next chapter that I've already started. Busy week coming up, so I don't know how long it will be before my next update, but I'll do my best.

Oh, and before I forget...while Hummingbird serves absolutely no purpose, I really liked her scenes. She's just so funny to me...anyways, let me know how you like her! R&R!!

**Shallindra:** I hope you enjoyed the Tristan scenes that I added. And I'm so glad you like Dayn. Keep reading and reviewing for me!

**HGandRHrforever:** Glad you liked the chapter...please keep reviewing for me, because I love reviews!

**chiefhow: **I guess you were happy to see more Tristan scenes as well. I'm trying hard to include he and the other knights more often.

**When Fire Meets Ice: **Yes, Dayn does have a penchant for trouble, doesn't he? He's what you might call impulsive...not so much foolish, just hot-tempered and a bit reckless.

**ModestySparrow9:** When are you going to update? I'm eagerly waiting for your next chapter...as far as how the Romans knew about Dayn leaving, I left that out because it just wasn't all that important, but since you want to know, here's kind of what I was thinking: when Arthur and the others were given another mission, Dayn was of course, nowhere to be found, so Arthur told the soldiers to be on the lookout for him. Arthur didn't tell them to throw him in prison or anything, he just told them to be watching for him. Nor did Arthur tell them that Dayn was a deserter — the Romans came to that conclusion on their own. Tristan wouldn't have sold Dayn out to the Romans.


	7. Chapter 7: In the Service of Rome

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah…I own my characters, and nothing more.

Chapter 7—In the Service of Rome

The next morning found most of the knights stumbling into the main hall, the previous night's revelry having caught up with them. Dayn slowly made his way along the corridor, keeping a hand on the wall in order to stay upright. He found that last night's ale had done nothing for his dizziness, and it was all he could do to remain standing. But he would not be excluded, and if that meant he had to crawl to the Round Table, then so be it. He finally staggered in right as Arthur was about to begin speaking.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized as he swayed toward his chair.

"Dayn, are you drunk," Arthur asked sternly.

"No, just lightheaded," he replied as he sat down with a relieved sigh.

Dagonet turned to him sternly. "So where were you, huh? The other day. I came back to your room with a sleeping draught, and there was no trace of you."

"I didn't want the damn sleeping draught, I just wanted to be left alone. And I didn't kill anyone, so you don't have to worry."

"Dayn, answer the question," Arthur cut in.

"I just needed some space, Arthur. Is that asking too much?"

"You weren't inside the wall," Tristan spoke up, his quiet voice cutting in. Dayn turned to glare at Tristan, angry that he always seemed to know everything.

"What, do you spy on me now, Tristan?"

"Are you saying that you left the garrison," Arthur asked, interrupting Dayn before he could continue. _Shit,_ Dayn thought, as he realized his blunder.

"So what if I did? No one was hurt."

"Dayn, you could have gotten yourself killed. Woads roam the area north of the wall, you know that." Y_ou have no idea, Arthur. _Dayn crossed his arms over his chest, saying nothing.

"From now on, you stay inside the wall unless you're escorted by one of the others. I won't have you getting yourself killed."

"And how many of the others must get leave when they want to ride off for a time? I don't see you asking Lancelot to check in with anyone. But whatever you say, Arthur," he answered sarcastically. _All I have to do is wait for them to get drunk, and I can walk right past them without anyone even noticing. _In all honesty, it was no different than what he usually did.

"He has a point, Dayn," Lancelot spoke up. "I mean, we're gone for two days, and you manage to get yourself thrown into the garrison prison."

"Oh, so now it's my fault that the Romans locked me in a cell and beat me for two days, is it," he said hotly.

"All I'm saying is that you can't be counted on to look after yourself." Dayn opened his mouth to argue, his eyes flashing, but Arthur interrupted.

"Enough! Honestly, the two of you are behaving like children. We have more important matters to discuss."

"Like what," Cei asked, disappointed that Arthur had interrupted what had looked to be a promising fight.

"Like our next mission."

"Arthur, we are but a few days away from our freedom," Aldric began, "and it seems to me that the Romans are doing their damnedest to kill us." A thick silence settled in the room as Aldric brought up the one thing that no one had spoken of in years, their freedom. As the years had passed, and their fellow knights had died, freedom had become nothing more than a distant dream. Now that they were so close to realizing that dream, no one wanted to speak of it, as though doing so would somehow jinx it.

"What's a little Sarmatian blood to the Romans," Dayn asked sarcastically. "If we all die, they're not going to lose any sleep over it. What makes you think this time is any different from any other time?"

"Dayn, that's enough."

"Fine," he said, lacking the energy to argue with Arthur any further. He put his head down on the table, willing the room to stop spinning.

"Now, we'll ride out as soon as the horses are saddled. We have to meet up with a caravan and escort them in."

"Great. Another damn caravan," Caderyn muttered in annoyance, causing those around him to grin. Dayn snickered, but quieted when Arthur sent a stern look their way.

"This caravan carries the honored Bishop Germanus, who brings with him the papers that will grant you your freedom." The knights looked at each other, with hope beginning to blossom despite their hesitation to believe it.

"Well, what are we waitin' for," Bors asked raucously, heaving himself to his feet.

"Get your armor and food stores, and we'll meet at the stables," Arthur said in conclusion. All around the table, the knights were standing, heading for the door with an eagerness that had been all but lost to them over the years. "Dayn, a moment," Arthur said as Dayn had slowly moved to follow the others. Heaving a sigh, Dayn sat back down. _It wouldn't do to fall on my ass during Arthur's lecture, now, would it? _

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I want you to remain here while the rest of us ride out to meet the bishop."

"You would leave me behind," he asked incredulously.

"Dayn, you can barely stand. As lightheaded as you are, you won't be able to even stay in your saddle, much less help if it comes to a fight."

"Arthur--"

"This isn't negotiable, Dayn. Stay here and get some rest. That's an order." Dayn watched with helpless fury as Arthur left. He stood up to rush after him, and grabbed at the table as he almost lost his balance. _Perhaps Arthur has a point. I hate when he's right._ He sat back down, waiting until he was sure that the knights had left the wall before he slowly made his way back to his room.

Alone in the stables, Tristan was saddling his horse when he sensed someone behind him. Soft footsteps told him it was no knight. He turned, surprised to see Niamh standing hesitantly in the doorway. She smiled gently when his eyes met hers, and he nodded in acknowledgement of her presence before he turned back to his horse.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"When will you return?" He shrugged, not certain, for he did not know how far away the caravan was, nor how fast the caravan was moving. "Will it be dangerous," she asked, worry causing her brow to wrinkle.

"Perhaps." She stepped closer to him, and his movements stilled as she placed a hand on his arm.

"Take care," she said softly. She kissed his cheek, and stepped away with a sad smile. With a curt nod, Tristan turned back to his horse, puzzling over her words as he finished loading his saddlebags with the necessary supplies. As he listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps, he wondered why she cared. She barely knew him, but yet she genuinely seemed to care about his safety. He wasn't entirely comfortable knowing that she would be waiting here for his return. He wasn't used to having someone care, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Knowing there was little he could do about it right now, he pushed the image of her face out of his mind as he led the horse into the yard. Now, he just had to collect his hawk, and he would be ready to go.

Dayn sat on the wall, looking out over the rolling green hills, watching as the sun slowly cut through the mist that was an almost permanent part of the landscape. He'd spent the past day alternately sleeping as Arthur had suggested, and entertaining Hummingbird, who thought it great fun that Dayn was around for her personal enjoyment.

Dayn's mood had since shifted into melancholy as he thought of what the bishop's arrival would mean for him and the other knights. He'd been sitting there since sunrise, contemplating the changes that the coming days would bring. Things would certainly be different.

"Where the hell have you been, Dayn?" Dayn turned as Lancelot came up behind him, grabbing his shoulder.

"Get your hands off me," Dayn said hotly, shrugging off Lancelot's hand.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been searching for you?"

"Do you have any idea how little I care," he answered snidely.

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I didn't know you were back. Besides, I had no reason to think that anyone would be looking for me. Or did you think I'd be in some sort of trouble, and you'd have to rescue me, Lance?"

"Dayn, are you going to hold that against me, now," Lancelot asked with a exasperated sigh.

"Perhaps. Now what do you want?"

"Arthur wants to see all of us in the main hall. He sent me out to find you, because it seems you weren't where he thought you'd be."

"Ah, Arthur needs to be stirred up every now and then." With a sigh of exasperation, Lancelot turned and led the way down the stairs, knowing that Dayn would follow. Dayn's anger faded as quickly as it came, and he hurried to catch up with Lancelot. "Lighten up, Lance," he said, dropping his arm over Lancelot's shoulder in a rare moment of frivolity.

"Dayn, this is important."

"You're too solemn. I'm beginning to think you've been too long without a woman. Have you not found a wench to warm your bed lately?"

"Never that, my friend, never that," Lancelot replied with a cocky smile. "I should tell you about this pretty one I met at the tavern the night before we left to fetch the bishop…" He launched into a description of his evening that even Dayn thought was unlikely.

As they entered the main hall, Dayn took his seat beside Caderyn, and Arthur looked over to pierce Dayn with a stern look.

"Relax, Arthur. I didn't leave the wall." _Only because I was too dizzy to walk straight. But Arthur doesn't need to know that. I'll just let him continue to think I'm content to do as he ordered. _

"Are you feeling better, then?"

"Yes. I did as you suggested, and used most of the time you were gone to rest." Bors was passing around ale, boasting of how much he planned to consume this day. Everyone fell silent however as a priggish man came into the room followed by an older gentleman who appeared to be all too convinced of his own importance.

Dayn nudged Caderyn, a questioning look on his face as he nodded in the older man's direction.

"The bishop," he whispered. Dayn's eyes narrowed as he watched the man walk around to stand beside Arthur.

"Smug bastard," Dayn muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, you're right, but cheer up. You should be happy. Because of him, we will soon have our freedom," Caderyn said earnestly.

"Your freedom perhaps, not mine," he said grimly. _Why am I even here,"_ he thought with sudden exasperation. He stood to leave, stilling when the bishop's attention turned to him. Dayn narrowed a cold gaze at him, before he turned on his heel and left the room, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He thought about heading for the stables, the urge to ride at breakneck speed over the hills warring with the urge to see Orainne. Knowing that neither choice was a good idea, he settled for seeing the blacksmith about a new dagger, fashioned after one that he had seen Tadhg carry. Hopefully, the man would be able to recreate the weapon.

He was still there when the other knights found him shortly thereafter. Dayn turned, expecting to see them all rejoicing with their discharges, but instead, he found a somewhat subdued group, with varying degrees of confusion written on their faces.

"What is it," he asked, his gaze going from one knight to another.

"He wouldn't give the papers to us, yet," Galahad said, his voice dropping in disappointment.

"Why not?" Galahad shrugged, kicking at a pebble in the ground with the toe of his boot.

"That was some move, Dayn, you leaving like that," Gawain said with a grin. "What got into you, anyway?"

"Better yet, why don't you explain what you meant about the bishop bringing our freedom but not yours," Caderyn said suddenly. The other knights quieted as Caderyn's words penetrated. Feeling everyone's eyes on him, Dayn glanced down.

"I have two terms of service to fulfill."

"What the hell for," Bors asked as he took a swallow of from the glass he still carried.

"My father served Rome in the way of all our fathers, and it killed him. My mother…she couldn't afford to pay Rome's taxes after he died, so they sought other means of procuring payment…" Dayn paused, feeling the pain of those years coming back. "I was eight years old when they came…" His voice trailed off as the memories of that day came rushing back on him.

_"We've come to collect your taxes, woman." Dayn peered out of the hut, sensing his twin brother Orren behind him._

_"The Romans are here, Orren," he whispered, glaring out at the soldiers._

_"Shh, Dayn, I can't hear," Orren whispered back forcefully._

"_I'm sorry, but I don't have the money," Dayn's mother, Ania, was saying fearfully. "I'm working as hard as I can, but I just need more time." The soldiers laughed, jeering at her, and the captain dismounted. _

"_Well, I suppose we'll have to take something else instead," he said, walking towards her with a threatening demeanor. Ania stepped back, her hand going to her throat as he advanced on her. Suddenly, Orren rushed out, running to stand in front of her with Dayn at his heels. _

"_You leave her alone."_

"_Ah, these must be your little Sarmatian whelps," the soldier sneered. "Maybe we'll take them as well. They're almost old enough to be soldiers, and serve out their terms. They'll just serve a little longer than most." _

"_No, please, I beg you! Do not take my sons!" Seeing the effectiveness in threatening her children, the soldier leered at her. _

"_And what will you do for me if I leave them alone?" Ania looked down, a stoic look coming over her face as she fixed an empty gaze on the soldier's countenance. _

"_Anything you want."_

"_Mother, no," Dayn shouted. Orren pulled a dagger out of its scabbard at his waist, brandishing it threateningly at the soldier._

"_I'll kill you if you touch my mother." The soldier laughed, and stepped forward with his hand raised to strike Orren. Dayn lunged forward, grabbing the soldier's arm and pulling him off balance, as Orren's blade cut a furrow into the soldier's other arm. The soldier flung Dayn off, slinging him to the ground a few feet away before drawing his sword. A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, and Dayn looked up from the ground to see his mother rush forward as the soldier pulled his sword from Orren's chest. _

"_Orren, no," Dayn screamed, running for his brother as Ania caught Orren's falling body. Dayn knelt, taking his brother's hand as his mother cradled Orren in her arms. Orren looked quizzically up at Dayn, his eyes betraying his confusion. "Orren, please be okay." Orren coughed, blood spilling out of his mouth, as the soldiers watched, laughing. Dayn continued to speak to his brother and it wasn't until Orren's eyes glazed over and Ania shook her head at him that Dayn knew that his brother was gone. _

_"That'll teach you Sarmatian dogs to argue with Rome," the soldier said with a swagger in his step and bravado in his voice. Dayn stared in mute horror as his mother sobbed over Orren's lifeless body. _

_"You come with us, boy. Looks like you'll be serving his term as well as your own," he said with a chuckle. And that was when the anger had taken him for the first time…that all-consuming rage, uncontrollable in its intensity…_

"Well?" Bors' voice penetrated the haze of the memories, and Dayn blinked, as though coming out of a trance.

"It's a long story, and I really don't want to talk about it. Suffice it to say, I serve my term as well as my brother's term."

"But why do you serve your brother's term," Gawain asked, his face a picture of confusion. "Was he too ill to serve his term?"

"No, Gawain. They killed him before he could." His jaw clenched as he remembered the sounds of the Romans' laughter at the death of his brother.

"The Romans killed your brother? Why?"

"Because he dared to stand up to them. He was trying to protect our mother, and one of those Roman bastards killed him for it. Like an eight-year-old boy is such a threat to them," he sneered.

"So, they just ordered you to serve out his term, too?" Dayn nodded, his gaze going back to the heated steel in the blacksmith's hands, reddened by the intensity of the heat. The hammer struck against the steel, pounding out a rhythm as the smith worked the metal into the deadly shape of a curved blade.

"You know, that's how I feel sometimes--as though I'm nothing more than a piece of steel, being hammered by the Romans until I'm honed into something else. Only, I don't have any control over myself—all I can be is a weapon in the hands of someone else, never controlling, only bound to be used in whatever way someone else seems fit." No one said anything, for there was little to be said. They all felt that way, helpless and angry over the injustice of having to serve a country not their own.

"Small wonder that you hate Rome the way you do," Gawain said quietly from behind him.

"Well. Why don't we all go have a drink," Bors said, his jovial voice cutting into the tense silence. The knights all looked at one another, and as one, they all turned towards the tavern, and leaving the blacksmith to his duty, Dayn followed. _Might as well enjoy the time I have left with them, because it will be over all too soon. _

Dayn knew without a doubt that once the knights were gone, there would be nothing left to tie him to this place. He stayed for them, because they were his brothers, his family. The only one he had. But once they left…Dayn didn't intend to stay. _I'll be damned if I'll serve another. _

As the knights began passing ale around, Dayn leaned back against the wall and watched them all enjoy themselves. He'd never seen them so happy. Well, with the exception of Bors, who was always happy when there was ale to be had. Galahad, Gawain, and Tristan were alternately throwing knives at a random target, while Lancelot wagered some coins on a game of dice. Caderyn merely watched the gambling, having lost his money to Hummingbird a few nights before. _Poor bastard was so drunk that night, he doesn't even remember who he lost to. _Cei was merrily pursuing one of the serving wenches, who was having just as much fun trying to evade him. Aldric and Bors were more occupied in consuming their ale, and paid no mind to the other goings-on in the tavern. Dagonet was nowhere to be found, but Dayn knew he would show up eventually to drink with Bors because he always did. Dayn glanced around for Niamh, surprised when he didn't see her. As excited as she had been to see Tristan when he returned, her absence was somewhat perplexing. _Oh well, she'll be along later, I'm sure._

It wasn't long before the knights' little celebration moved outside. Actually, it had gotten a little rowdy inside the tavern, and the proprietor had begged them to leave. Knowing they could just as easily drink outside as they could inside, the now slightly inebriated knights agreed. It was while they were standing outside that Bors pulled Vanora out into the center of the courtyard and drunkenly commanded her to sing. She reluctantly agreed, and silence fell over the courtyard as the purity of her voice swept over them.

Arthur arrived just moments after Vanora's song trailed off, and the knights automatically grouped in front of Arthur. Dayn held back, uncertain of what Arthur was going to say. He hesitated before he finally stepped forward, joining the other knights.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted," Arthur was saying as Dayn came within earshot. Most of the knights began to laugh, certain that Arthur was joking. Dayn, however, wasn't so certain. He wasn't drunk enough to miss the grave look on Arthur's face, and he elbowed Caderyn, shaking his head slightly.

"Above the wall, there lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons," Arthur continued. "Our orders are to secure their safety."

"Let the Romans take care of their own," Bors said angrily.

"Above the wall is Woad territory," Gawain broke in, stepping forward only to catch himself as he started to weave drunkenly.

"Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty, is done," Galahad said, his anger a palpable thing as he practically seethed with rage. "Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you," Bors said, his own anger warming at the injustice of it all. "And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood!? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours!"

"Bors, these are our orders," Arthur said, his voice belying a calmness he didn't feel. "We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with--"

"I'm a free man!I will choose my own fate," Bors yelled as he walked away to regain his composure.

"Yeah yeah, we're all going to die someday," Tristan spoke up carelessly. "If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you – stay home."

"Well if you're so eager to die, you can die right here," Galahad said, stepping forward threateningly. Lancelot grabbed Galahad, holding him back. "I've got something to live for!"

"The Romans have broken their word," Dagonet spoke up, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the anger of Bors and Galahad. "We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare." He began to walk away, but he paused as though something occurred to him. "Bors, you coming?"

"Of course I'm coming! Can't let you go on your own--you'll all get killed!"

"I'm just saying what you're all thinking," Bors yelled over his shoulder as he followed Dagonet to collect his things. Tristan followed without a word, seeming not to care either way. With a pained look, Caderyn followed them, shaking his head even as he went to pack his gear, his earlier merriment forgotten.

"And you, Gawain," Arthur asked.

"I'm with you," Gawain replied with a weary sigh. He glanced at Galahad, who remained frozen in place. "Galahad as well," he said, answering for his friend. _Gawain is so drunk he probably doesn't even know what he's agreeing to, for himself or Galahad, _Dayn thought. And Galahad seemed none too thrilled, staring at Gawain in angry disbelief. With a scathing laugh, he poured the wine out of the jar he was drinking from before dashing the jar to pieces on the ground at Arthur's feet. Dayn watched the two of them walk away until his attention was drawn back by Arthur speaking.

"Cei? Aldric?" Aldric nodded gravely.

"I will be there, as I always am," Aldric said, offering a small smile to Arthur. He walked past Arthur, patting him on the shoulder as he went by.

"What else can I do, but follow," Cei said, shrugging his shoulders. He too, left to pack for the journey north. And then there was only Dayn and Lancelot left. Arthur looked at these last two, his first knight and his last.

"Dayn?"

"You're my commander, Arthur, and I will follow where you lead." He looked from Arthur to Lancelot, before giving a final nod and turning on his heel. He needed to pack and get some sleep, for tomorrow would be a long day.

As Tristan followed Dagonet and Bors, he looked around once more for Niamh. She seemed to have disappeared, for no one had seen her. Despite her apparent eagerness for him to return, she had been nowhere in sight when the knights had ridden into the courtyard earlier that day. He admitted to himself that he was worried, but there was little he could do about it now. Worry was another useless emotion, Tristan thought, for it was a distraction, one he could seldom afford. But still…perhaps he would circle the garrison for signs of her.

He abruptly changed direction, heading for the aviary to fetch his hawk, for the bird might be of some use. He passed Dayn on the way, and called out to him.

"Have you seen Niamh?"

"I saw her the day all of you rode out to meet the bishop. She asked me if I could tell her how long you would be gone, but I knew nothing."

"And you haven't seen her since?"

"Nay. Are you going to look for her?"

"Yes."

"I'll come with you." Tristan nodded, and Dayn fell into step beside him. They searched the entire garrison, but Niamh was nowhere to be found. As the sky began to lighten, Dayn turned to Tristan, shaking his head. "Tristan, we know naught of where she may be, and time grows short. I'm sure we'll find her when we return. Or who knows, maybe she'll show up on her own tomorrow."

"Very well," Tristan said, knowing that Dayn was right. But still, he wondered…_where was Niamh?_

A/N: I've considered adding another little piece of the puzzle in regarding Dayn's past…think of it like an addition to the flashback…but I'm not sure, so if anyone would like to let me know what they think, I'd be very appreciative. More flashback or no?

**chiefhow**: I'm glad you liked Hummingbird…I'm going to try and pull her into the next chapter…we'll see how that goes. Niamh is giving me a little more trouble…that's the problem with subplots. It gets harder to keep integrating them back into the story. Oh well. Anyways, thanks for the review!

**ModestySparrow9**: I'm glad you liked the Tristan subplot. To answer your question about how Dayn could pull his cloak around him when his hands are tied—he's got shackles on his wrists, so there is a length of chain between them that gives him a little leeway in terms of movement. Also, I'm really glad that Hummingbird is coming off as cute—that's how I want her to be. I just adore her! Anyways, I'm attempting to put a funny little scene with her in the next chapter…if I can pull it off. As for her being in danger at some point, I'll have to see where it goes. Thanks for the review!

**HGandRHrforever**: Yeah, you can bet Dayn is going to continue to get in trouble because of his temper. Thanks for reviewing!

**Squallsgurlygurl**: Well, Squalls…I don't even know if you made it this far into the story…it doesn't seem like you cared too much for it, or at least for Dayn. Sorry that you're not liking him, but as he is my main character, there's really nothing I can do. Oh well…


	8. Chapter 8: Watchful Eyes

Disclaimer: I only own the stuff that I came up with. Yes, we know…

Chapter 8—Watchful Eyes

What little sleep Dayn got was riddled with a jumble of nightmare images and memories from his childhood. He'd awoken with memories of that nightmare voyage to Britain so long ago and his first meeting with Arthur…

_Dayn huddled in the corner of the ship's hold, shivering from the cold that he couldn't seem to shake. Alone where the soldiers had left him, he felt more afraid than ever. He'd never been alone before, which made Orren's absence even more painful. Tears had long since dried on his dirt-streaked face, and Dayn bit his lip as more tears threatened to fall. He was tired, but the motion of the ship scared him, making him afraid to sleep. He'd never been on a boat before, and the rocking of the ship on the waves made him nervous, not to mention slightly ill. His hands were tied in front of him, the ropes biting into his wrists painfully. He couldn't remember them binding his hands, nor did he remember being brought onto the ship. He recalled lunging for Orren's fallen dagger, yelling with rage as he attacked the soldier who had killed his twin. Things were fuzzy after that, and by the time Dayn had come back to awareness, he was here in the ship's hold. He could hear the soldiers above him, and his fists clenched angrily. _

"_Should someone check on the boy?" Dayn held his breath, hoping they wouldn't come, desperately wishing to be left alone._

"_No, leave him. He's like a wild animal—he's liable to attack if you get near."_

"_Ha—Claudius found that out the hard way, didn't he? I laughed my ass off. Once Claudius had left, mind you." They both chuckled, and Dayn slowly relaxed as he realized that they weren't going to bother him. He didn't even know where they were going. He felt a wave of helplessness wash over him as he realized the boat was taking him farther and farther from everything he knew. He drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head as he struggled not to succumb to the tears that welled up in his eyes. _

* * *

_A boot caught Dayn in the small of his back, sending him sprawling down the gangplank of the ship as the soldiers took a more leisurely route off the ship. Dayn rolled to a stop, and slowly crawled to his hands and knees in the cold, wet grass. Anger tightened his throat, and he struggled to climb to his feet. Before he could gain his footing, however, a booted foot caught him in the side. He struggled to hold back tears, just as he had for the past month as he'd been dragged away from his home to travel across both land and sea. _

"_Captain, restrain yourself or I will do it for you." The voice came from Dayn's left, and he turned his head to see a young man in Roman armor coming toward them, a group of teenage boys of varying ages behind him. _

"_I brought another Sarmatian lap dog for you, Commander," Claudius said, ignoring the reprimand. Dayn noticed the hostile glares of the boys, and felt a little less alone than before._

"_Are you robbing mothers of their children, now, Captain?"_

"_The bitch that whelped this one couldn't pay her taxes." Fury welled up inside Dayn, and he rushed to his feet, hurling himself at Claudius with a bellow of rage. A sharp cuff to the side of the head dropped him, and he lay stunned, feeling the cool grass beneath his cheek. _

"_Hey, you alright?" Dayn blinked as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw a tall boy of about seventeen years gazing compassionately down at him. Much to his shame, Dayn's eyes filled with tears, and he wiped at his face as best he could with his hands tied, embarrassed by the display of emotion. "It's alright, boy." He smiled softly, helping Dayn to sit up, as the other boys formed a loose circle around the two of them, standing against any Roman interference. The Roman soldiers slowly retreated, grumbling as they headed for the nearest tavern for refreshment. The man in Roman armor approached, and Dayn shrunk away as the man knelt down in front of him. _

"_You don't have to be afraid anymore," he said with a friendly smile. "My name is Arthur…"_

"Dayn, hurry it up! Arthur's waiting," Lancelot called out from the doorway of the stables, snapping Dayn out of his reverie.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he hollered back. "It's not as if Arthur's going to leave without us," Dayn mumbled under his breath as he slowly swung himself into the saddle. "It's too damn early…why we can't leave at a decent time," he grumbled, continuing his rant.

They rode out at dawn, the rising sun at their backs as they galloped out of the fort. Dayn and Tristan trailed the group from behind, their exhaustion evident. _And we have absolutely nothing to show for it,_ Dayn thought scornfully. With no trace of Niamh, they had had no choice but to leave. The entire group was subdued, as most of them were convinced that they were on a suicide mission. Even Bors was quiet, his usual boisterous mood suppressed.

Dayn, too, remained doubtful about their ability to survive this mission. He knew the odds of a Woad attack, better than the others. Though the Woad tribe closest to the wall wouldn't bother them, those tribes that were further north could give them trouble. As much as he hated to, Dayn knew that he would kill any Woad who threatened him or any of the other knights. He felt the continuous strain of an internal struggle—to kill the Woads, who he considered to be his own people, in order to save his brothers in arms. The tribe he considered his own knew what he would do if confronted with hostile Woads who threatened the lives of him or any of his own, and they avoided confrontations with the Sarmatians accordingly. Dayn was grateful, for he didn't want to face the moment where he would be forced to choose between the Woads and the knights. Only fools from his tribe would still attack the Sarmatians now, for well they knew that the odds were against them. He just hoped Illbrech could keep the more reckless tribesmen from trying anything foolish.

* * *

Arthur couldn't rid himself of the cold feeling in his gut, the one that told him that this mission was a mistake. _But there's nothing I can do to change anything_, he told himself sternly. Orders were orders, and if they refused, his knights would be forced to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives, pursued by the relentless Roman army. Still, the odds of them successfully pulling off this mission were slim. Bors' words from the night before caused an ache in his heart, for he couldn't help but wonder if the others truly believed that he cared more for the Romans than he did his own men. He was still mulling over it when he called for a halt a few hours later. He didn't want to exhaust the horses, and the men could use a break from the saddle. He sat down on the grass, resting his elbows on his knees as he contemplated the words that had cut through him so deeply.

He looked up when Lancelot sat down beside him, a questioning look on his face.

"Arthur, what is it?"

"Nothing," he said, running his fingers along the grass beside him.

"Is this another one of those moments where you'd rather speak to your invisible god than speak to me," Lancelot said angrily.

"Lancelot…"

"Arthur, your faith is your own business. But how can you just ignore the flesh and blood around you? I'm your friend, Arthur. If you won't tell me anything, how can I help you?" Arthur sighed, gripping the blades of grass between his fingers, before releasing them to look at Lancelot.

"Do the others think so little of me, that they truly believe that I would ask them to spill their blood if I didn't have to?"

"Arthur, of what do you speak?"

"Bors. You heard him last night. Does he honestly think that I would see any of you die if I could stop it?"

"He meant nothing by it, Arthur. You should not let it trouble you. He was upset, is all. Give him some time, and he'll be back to his usual drunken self—you'll see." Giving him a slap on the shoulder, Lancelot rose to his feet and walked back to where the others were milling around, leaving Arthur to stare after him. Behind him, Arthur could hear the muffled conversations of some of the knights, and he turned to listen as Cei's words reached his ears.

"So, what do you think our odds of survival are?"

"If I knew that, I probably would have wagered on it with some unsuspecting Romans and made a profit," Caderyn said with a grin.

"No, seriously…do you think we'll all make it back alive?"

"Cei, it's not like you to worry over such nonsense," Aldric said from a few feet away.

"Yes, well…this is different, you know? We're so close to our freedom. I just worry that I might not be around to enjoy it," he said, looking worriedly at his feet. "Nevermind," he mumbled, turning to walk away from the group.

"What's with him," Caderyn asked, cocking an eyebrow at Cei's behavior.

"Leave him alone, Caderyn," Aldric murmured.

"What? I'm just saying, it's not like him to act worried about a fight. He's a good warrior—he has nothing to worry about."

"Look, no one is going to die—you all worry over nothing," Lancelot said impatiently.

"So, you speak for the gods now do you," Aldric said, turning his stern gaze on Lancelot.

"What are you talking about?"

"It is not our place to speak of who will live and who will die. That is the responsibility of the gods, and angry they become when we endeavor to take their place."

"Whatever you say, old man," Lancelot said with a teasing smile. Shaking his head, he walked away to stretch his legs, leaving Aldric to gaze after him disapprovingly.

"Mark my words, the gods won't stand for a mortal to trifle with their affairs." Caderyn shared a look with Dagonet and Bors who stood nearby before he walked off in pursuit of Lancelot.

Dayn and Tristan were taking advantage of the stop by catching up on some sleep, even though their break wouldn't be long. Some sleep was better than no sleep. It felt like only moments had passed when Bors shook them awake.

"Come on, boys, it's time we set off again." Groaning, Dayn sat up, pushing a hand through his hair wearily.

"Tristan, next time I agree to come with you on a fruitless search for a woman, remind me not to," Dayn grumbled.

"No one twisted your arm."

"Well, I couldn't very well let you search for her alone. You could have gotten into trouble."

"And do you think me incapable of taking care of myself?"

"Of course not. I just wanted to be in on it if you got to kill anyone," Dayn replied with a grin. Tristan gave him a hint of a smile before he came to his feet and walked toward his horse, whistling for his hawk.

* * *

Tristan rode to the head of the column, taking his usual position as lead despite his exhaustion. Tired or not, he had never let anything interfere with his scouting, and he didn't plan to start now. They hadn't traveled very far when he suddenly stiffened. Spurring his horse, he steered out of the column and raced for the tree line. Arthur called out behind him, but Tristan didn't slow, leaving Arthur no choice but to follow him. They raced after Tristan, watching as he pulled his horse to a halt at the trees, and knelt down by something. As they reigned up behind him, Dayn saw what it was that held his attention so much.

"Niamh," he said, shocked to see her.

Niamh lay in a heap, as Tristan reached a hand out to gently touch her shoulder. With a gasp she came awake, scooting away from Tristan's hand. Dayn slid off his horse, coming to stand behind Tristan, stepping aside to give Arthur room to step up beside him. He winced when he saw Niamh's face. Her face was bruised, her left eye almost swollen shut, and her lip was split. A pair of shackles secured her to a stake driven into the ground, and Dayn could tell that it was driven in deep enough that Niamh hadn't had a chance of removing it.

As she realized who knelt at her side, she suddenly threw herself at Tristan, sobbing with relief.

"I need someone's sword," Tristan said, his arms automatically going around Niamh, much to the surprise of the other knights. Tristan wasn't exactly known for displays of affection. Arthur drew his sword and held it out to Tristan hilt-first. Tristan tried to stand, but Niamh clung to him, squeezing him as though he alone could keep her safe. Tristan looked up at Arthur, a silent question in his eyes, and without a word, Arthur nodded and taking his sword by the hilt once more, took a half-step back, bringing his sword up as Dayn hurried forward to grip the chain that held Niamh to the ground. Motioning to Galahad to grab another portion of the chain, they pulled it taut as Arthur swung Excalibur, slicing thorough the chain as though it were nothing more than a simple thread.

With a shudder, Niamh tried to suppress her sobs, still refusing to relinquish her hold on Tristan. He came to his feet with Niamh in his arms as he faced Arthur. "I can take her back to the wall, and catch up with you."

"It's too far for you to do that, Tristan. There's no way you could catch up with us, not at the rate we're traveling."

"We can't leave her here alone."

"No, that's not an option either."

"So, what, we're taking her with us," Lancelot asked incredulously.

"I don't see that we have much choice in the matter. We can't spare anyone to take her back, and we can't leave her here to be preyed upon by Woads."

"Looks to me as though the Woads aren't really the problem here, Arthur," Dayn sneered. "Those are Roman chains. Woads prefer rope."

"How do you know that," Cei asked curiously. _Think fast, Dayn._

"Everyone knows that, Cei," he said, injecting confidence into his voice. If he sounded confident enough, no one would question him. He saw Tristan's eyebrow shoot up, as he heard his brash statement, but Dayn ignored it, knowing that Tristan wouldn't say anything. At least not in front of the others. And none of the others would question him, because they wouldn't want to seem ignorant in front of their fellow knights.

"Arthur," Lancelot exclaimed in exasperation, obviously not through arguing. Tristan carried Niamh past Lancelot, not caring about Lancelot's apparent misgivings. Tristan was going to do what Tristan wanted to do; Lancelot didn't even figure into it. _Lance is such an argumentative bastard, _Dayn thought with an amused grin. _But then again, the same could be said for me. _But Arthur looked none too eager to deal with it today.

"We will argue this no more, Lancelot. Now mount up," he said sternly. As the others began to follow Tristan's lead, Dayn hurried to follow suit. The delay had cost them, and they pushed the horses for the rest of the afternoon. They stopped just outside the woods, Arthur having decided that it would be safer to wait until morning to enter Woad territory.

Niamh was quiet throughout the long day, sleeping through most of the journey secure against Tristan's chest. As eager as he was to get answers to the questions swirling in his mind, Tristan did not push Niamh to speak of what had brought her to be chained up in the wilderness. She showed no inclination to speak of her ordeal, so he decided to refrain from questioning her until she'd had time to cope. His arms circled her waist, holding her to him so that no harm would come to her. When the weary band finally came to a stop for the night, she was startled awake when Tristan slid off the horse, his comforting warmth and support suddenly missing. He reached his arms up, and she went into them gratefully, allowing him to lift her away from the saddle.

Dayn watched as Tristan set up his bedroll for Niamh to lie on, knowing that Tristan could just as easily sleep on the ground as he did on the bedroll. Sitting down by the fire that Gawain had started, Dayn nudged Bors and nodded in the direction of Tristan.

"Well, Bors, the question becomes, will Tristan sleep on the ground tonight, or will he be joining Niamh in the bedroll?" Bors glanced over to where Tristan was tucking his cloak around Niamh as she snuggled inside the bedroll. Looking back at Dayn, Bors gave him a wide grin.

"If he doesn't share the bedroll, then he's a stupider man than I thought."

Tristan glanced up, as though he knew they were talking about him, and fixed them with a cold stare. Quickly, Dayn and Bors turned back to the fire, snickering at Tristan's discomfort. As the other knights set out their own bedrolls, the long day began to take its toll, and it wasn't long before conversation dwindled, and sleep fell over them before Dayn and Bors could see where Tristan bedded down for the night.

* * *

As they entered the woods early the next morning, Niamh shivered, and she pressed back in the saddle against Tristan's chest. His arms tightened around her, and he spoke quietly in her ear, startling her.

"What's wrong?"

"This forest…it frightens me. There are tales told of this forest. Strange things happen here, I have heard."

"Think nothing of it. You will come to no harm," Tristan murmured. Dayn rode up beside them then, obviously overhearing their murmured conversation, and he leaned towards Niamh with a comforting smile on his face.

"You have nothing to fear in these woods, Niamh. The Woads don't make war on women and children. That is the business of the Romans."

"How do you know this?"

"I have my ways," he said with cockiness in his voice. Giving her a playful grin, he slipped back into line. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Tristan spurred his horse, riding ahead to take the lead. Because Tristan was a scout, Niamh would probably be better off riding with one of the others, but Tristan found himself surprisingly reluctant to let her go. Besides, with this bunch, he didn't trust anyone not to try something. Everyone could see that Caderyn was an insufferable flirt, and Lancelot would bed any female within arm's reach. No, it wouldn't be wise to trust her with one of the others.

They had been riding for some time when Tristan felt eyes on him. He reined his horse in, and Arthur pulled his horse to a stop right behind him.

"Tristan, what is it?"

"We are watched, Arthur."

"Woads?"

"Must be. Saxons haven't made it this far south yet."

_The time approaches._ Dayn heard the voice on the wind, and a chill came over him. _Alright, Merlin, you mysterious bastard. So the time approaches…but what am I supposed to do about it? _

Dayn felt it then, the almost imperceptible shift in the air that told him they were no longer alone. He knew when the Woads were watching, and they were most certainly watching now. This far north, it would have to be some of Merlin's band. Hopefully, they weren't here to cause trouble.

"We should not linger. Woads. They're tracking us," Dayn heard Tristan tell Arthur.

"Where," Arthur asked.

"Everywhere," Tristan answered, and Dayn knew that he was right. The horses, too, sensed that something was happening, and Dayn moved to sooth Brina as the hidden figures in the trees spooked her. Suddenly, arrows shot out of the mist-shrouded trees, cutting off the path in front of them.

Dayn started to yell to everyone to hold their positions, but Lancelot and Bors began yelling at everyone to get back. Arthur spun his horse around, and charged in the opposite direction, the knights right behind him. With a sigh, Dayn spurred his horse to follow, hoping that he could get Arthur's attention and get everyone to halt. Arrows continued to fly, cutting off every path until they were forced to a stop. The knights began to draw their weapons, preparing for battle, despite the fact that they were outnumbered.

"What are you waiting for," Gawain yelled, anxious to meet the Woads in battle.

Just when Dayn thought that he'd have to use his knowledge of the Celtic tongue to warn them off, a horn sounded in the distance. Dayn sighed in relief, putting his sword away as the signal for retreat reverberated through the trees. As the Woads disappeared back into the mist that they'd come out of, Tristan glanced over at Dayn, struck with suspicion. _Dayn knew it was safe to sheath his sword before their retreat. How did he know?_

* * *

_Could this journey get any worse, _Arthur thought as they left the woods behind them for the valleys and the mountain passes. A woman with them, the ever-growing presence of Woads…things couldn't get much worse.

The trees hadn't even sunk below the horizon behind them, when Lancelot paused at the rear of the column. He swung his horse around, reversing his direction. With a wave to Arthur to hold up, he rode back towards the trees, his gaze sharpening on a row of shrubbery at the tree line. _There,_ he thought with satisfaction. Arthur and the knights had reigned in their horses, waiting to see what had captured Lancelot's attention.

Drawing one of his swords, Lancelot neared the bushes on foot, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He reached out swiftly, grabbing at a small figure concealed within the shrubs and yanking.

Dayn's eyes widened as the cloak around the person's face fell back, and he spurred his horse forward as Lancelot brought his sword to bear on the figure at his feet. Another figure, a man, broke through the underbrush, bringing his own sword to bear just in time to meet Lancelot's. The man moved protectively in front of the smaller figure, his meaning clear, and terror struck Dayn, as he suddenly realized who the man was.

"Tadhg,no," Dayn shouted, knowing that if Tadhg moved to strike, Lancelot would cut him down with relative ease. Tadhg was a good fighter, but he was no match for Lancelot's skill with a blade. Vaguely aware of the knights following him, he raced forward, silently urging his horse to go faster.

Lancelot stepped back, freeing his sword as he slowly sized up his opponent. This one would be no difficulty, he thought as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. He heard Dayn yell something, but ignored him as the man came at him with a broad swing of his sword. Lancelot easily sidestepped, the sword passing harmlessly through the air in front of him. Seeing an opening, he thrust his sword, knowing before he even pulled his blade back, that he had struck a killing blow. As the man fell, Lancelot backed away as Dayn ran up beside him, grief stricken.

"Tadhg," he murmured, kneeling next to the fallen figure. He looked up at Lancelot, a look of pain and confusion on his face that Lancelot didn't understand. Right then, a sound of sorrow came from the small figure still lying on the ground, and Lancelot turned, bringing his sword up.

"Dayn, what ails you," Gawain asked, coming up beside Lancelot.

Dayn said nothing, only staring down at the fallen Tadhg in shock. _How did this happen? Why was he here—he shouldn't have been here. _

"Come, Dayn, it was just a Woad," Lancelot said, goodnaturedly. Right then, Dayn began to stand, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword that hung in a scabbard across his back.

"Are you going to draw on me, Dayn?" Dayn took a threatening step towards Lancelot, and it must have finally dawned on Lancelot that Dayn was deadly serious.

"What is going on here," Arthur asked, putting himself between Lancelot and Dayn. "We don't have time for this nonsense, and I grow weary of breaking up fights between the two of you."

"Don't look at me, Arthur," Lancelot said, his eyes staying locked on Dayn. "He started this fray."

"And you did nothing to taunt him?"

"I but killed a Woad, Arthur, nothing more."

"I have a better question, Arthur. What do we do with the other one," Caderyn broke in.

_Other one? _Dayn ripped his gaze away from Lancelot to peer at the other Woad that huddled on the ground at Caderyn's feet. Caderyn gave Arthur a questioning look as he held his sword on the Woad who appeared to be of little threat to the knights. Dayn's eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the cloaked figure for who it was.

Rushing forward, he knocked Caderyn's sword away from the small Woad, and spun around to come face to face with the one person he had not expected to see.

The figure's hood fell back, and Orainne's thick auburn hair spilled out to fall down her back. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she came into his arms as she was wracked with sobs. Dayn's arms tightened around her, as he felt his own grief at the loss of Tadhg well up. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her back and forth as she cried into the front of his tunic. "Shhh," he whispered to her.

"Please don't let them kill me, Dayn," she said brokenly.

"You know I would not let you come to harm," he said, slipping into Celtic with the ease of one who has been speaking it for many years.

"Dayn, how do you know this girl," Arthur asked, his eyes meeting Dayn's over Orainne's head.

"It's a long story, Arthur."

"That's not an answer, Dayn."

"Fine, then. She's my lover. Are you satisfied?"

"Uh, Dayn…" Bors cut in, scratching his head with the tip of a dagger. "She's a Woad."

"Thank you, Bors. I know that," he replied sarcastically.

"How long have you been in league with the Woads?" Lancelot spoke up angrily.

"For three years," Tristan said quietly, before Dayn could respond to Lancelot's question.

"How long have you known?" Dayn asked, his eyes meeting Tristan's.

"You aren't exactly known for your stealth. It was obvious that you were leaving the garrison. I just didn't count on the Woads factoring into your excursions outside the Wall."

"You've known he was sneaking off, and yet you said nothing," Arthur said, his gaze turning to Tristan.

"Didn't figure it was any of my business," Tristan said without apology. Tristan never apologized for his actions, nor did he feel compelled to at any time. "Besides, you never asked."

"What is she doing here," Galahad asked. "And who was the man with her?"

"Orainne," Dayn murmured questioningly. "Why were you and Tadhg here? You're far out of our territory."

"We were sent to warn you," she said in a halting voice.

"What do you mean?"

"We received word that there were Saxon patrols this far south. Illbrech wanted you to be warned to look out for them."

"Saxons? They can't be this far south. Was he sure of the messenger?"

"The message was sent by Merlin himself, Dayn." Dayn relayed the conversation to the other knights, and Arthur's brow wrinkled in worry.

"If they only came to warn us, then why didn't they just show themselves," Lancelot said accusingly.

"Oh come off it, Lance! Had they approached us openly, you would have slaughtered both of them just as quickly as you killed Tadhg—without warning. You wouldn't have waited to hear anything they said."

"If you're waiting for me to apologize for my actions, Dayn, then you'll be waiting for eternity. I did what needed to be done. You're the only one who seems to have a problem with it. And that's because you've been working with the enemy. How far does your betrayal of us go?"

"I betrayed no one," Dayn yelled. "I've always stood for all of you!"

"I hate to point out the obvious, gentlemen," Aldric said, interrupting, "but we really don't have time for this."

"You're right, of course. Dayn, Lancelot, that's enough. We'll work this out later. Right now, we have a mission to complete. And if what the girl says is true, then our need for haste is of even more importance."

"So, what do we do with the Woad," Gawain asked, his gaze going to the shaking girl whose face remained buried in Dayn's chest. Dayn unconsciously rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, as his blazing eyes met Gawain's in an unspoken promise of retaliation should the knight pose any sort of threat to Orainne.

"I'm just guessing here, but I think Dayn wants her alive," Caderyn said with a grin.

"She's free to go this time. But make certain that she does not cross our path again. I don't trust Woads."

"I will not leave her here alone, Arthur. You heard what she said—there are Saxons about."

"She's a warrior. She'll be alright, so long as she does not tarry," Arthur said, moving to mount his horse.

"She's not a warrior, Arthur."

"I thought all their women fought," Cei said, his face questioning.

"Look at her, Cei. She barely reaches my shoulder—she's too small to pose a threat. She can barely hold a sword, much less swing one. And her aim with a bow is disastrous. That's why she's apprenticed to the healer. Arthur," he said, turning his attention back to the stoic leader, "please. I can't leave her. She'll be defenseless. Tadhg is no longer alive to protect her, thanks to Lancelot."

"I suppose you want to bring her along?"

"Yes," he murmured, his eyes pleading with his commander to grant his request.

"Very well. But you're responsible for her. And she must not interfere with our duty."

"Yes, Arthur. I understand."

_I was wrong,_ Arthur thought grimly, as Dayn led the girl away. _Things can get worse. _

* * *

A/N: I was a bit saddened by the lack of reviews last time…I'm hoping that its just the weird problems that were going on with the network, and not a sign of lagging interest in my story. So, please review! Renew my hope in humanity!

**chiefhow**: I hope you did your happy dance for this chapter as well! If it's anything like my roommate's happy dance, then I imagine it is very entertaining. I know you were wondering about Niamh—I hope the lack of explanation for her being in the middle of nowhere doesn't bother you too much—I plan to pull the explanation in during another chapter.

**Shallindra:** Sorry for making you wait on updates—I have to squeeze story-writing time in between studying. I should be studying for my history exam right now, but I really wanted to finish up this chapter. Oh, and fear not—I don't have any plans of killing Tristan off. I hope that wasn't a spoiler for chapters to come…but I just can't kill Tristan off! Anyways, I hope the wait was worth it! Please keep reading and updating for me!

**ModestySparrow9:** I don't know if you got my email, but I sure hope so…anyways, I forgot to address some of the things you mentioned last time…first, I haven't seen _The Grudge_, yet—I'm not brave enough to want to see that one in a theater. But _Darkness_ looks really interesting—comes out on Christmas Day in theaters, but I hesitate to see it for the same reason I hesitate to see _The Grudge_. I think I see Dayn a little bit more like Shane West actually, but it's a tough call—it's hard for me to picture someone as my character like that. If I had to say who Orainne looked like, I'd probably say she looks a bit like that singer JoJo. What do you think? Anyways, please review for me—hope to hear from you!


	9. Chapter 9: Evil Dwells Within

Disclaimer: Insert everything that I don't own here.

A/N: Once again, thanks to the script located at the Fallen Knights fansite--what a blessing! Thanks to all those wonderful people who reviewed my last chapter…hopefully you'll all continue to do so. Hint, hint. ;)

Chapter 9: Evil Dwells Within

Darkness had fallen when Arthur finally called a halt. Orainne jerked awake in Dayn's arms as the horse came to a stop. She waited while Dayn dismounted, nervousness and fear once more beginning to take hold, fear for herself when faced with the hostility of the men that Dayn called his brothers. She slid into Dayn's arms, letting him catch her as she awkwardly came out of the saddle. She clung to him, and he looked down at her quizzically.

"Orainne, what is it?"

"I'm afraid," she murmured, squeezing him tightly around the waist.

"What for?"

"Your friends…I'm afraid they'll…that they might…," she faltered, unable to put her fears into words.

"You're afraid of the other knights?" She nodded, and he took her chin in his hand, angling her face so that she looked up at him.

"You have nothing to fear from them. They won't harm you. Besides, do you think that I would let anything happen to you?" With a reassuring smile, Dayn kissed her forehead gently, and then turned back to his horse, leaving Orainne standing alone.

As Dayn turned back to unsaddle Brina, the smile left his face, for he knew that Lancelot was merely biding his time before he came at Dayn with a myriad of accusations. _At least I'll get to take out some of my frustrations on him, _Dayn thought wryly. He knew where Lance stood, but what about the others…Tristan, he knew, cared little for the petty squabbles of the others, so he wouldn't really be a problem. Caderyn would probably be more amused than angry, as he was able to find something amusing in just about everything. Gawain and Galahad would take their lead from Arthur, so if Arthur at least appeared to accept the situation, they would as well. Dagonet, ever enigmatic, would more than likely keep his feelings on the matter to himself, so Dayn knew that he didn't pose much of a problem. Bors could care less about what was going on--give him a pint of ale, and he'd be just as happy. Aldric would not presume to interfere in things he didn't consider his concern, so he would be of little issue. As for Cei, well, who knew where Cei stood on anything, as flighty as he was? As it was, Dayn didn't think anyone but Lancelot was cause for worry, but he worried nonetheless. _For if they knew how involved with the Woads I really am…But they can't know, right? I've been careful…all they know for sure is that I'm bedding a Woad. They know not that I fight alongside their enemies. Yes, but Tristan knows a lot more than he let on,_ Dayn thought, biting his lip nervously.

"Dayn, a word?" Lancelot asked, coming up behind him. _Here it comes, _Dayn thought, rolling his eyes. He turned to face Lancelot, impatience in his stance that he hoped Lancelot would pick up on.

"What is it, Lance?"

"Look, this mission is hard enough as it is without you bringing a defenseless girl along. She's useless in a fight, and all she'll do is take your attention away from the task at hand."

"So what is Niamh, Lance? Chopped meat? Did you give Arthur this little spiel when he allowed Niamh to come with us? Or maybe you spoke to Tristan?" _Like that would happen--one didn't just waltz up to Tristan and tell him you disagreed with him. _

"Niamh's different."

"Really? How so?"

"Orainne is a Woad, Dayn," Lancelot said angrily.

"Yeah, well, you're an ass, but we don't hold that against you." _At least, not all the time._

"Can't you be serious for one minute?"

"Look, Lance, Orainne's here whether you want her to be or not. If it were left up to me, I'd have her safe at home, not here where she's in danger. But there's nothing you or I can do about it, so deal with it." He left Lancelot staring angrily after him as he stalked over to where Tristan waited for him. It was their turn to go out and hunt for food--rotten timing, in Dayn's opinion, because it meant Orainne was left alone with the others. Just one more in a long list of things that Dayn couldn't change.

* * *

Orainne stood alone, watching as the knights went about the task of setting up camp for the night. The longhaired one busied himself with starting a fire as the others set about taking care of the horses. A woman stood at the side of the dark one, the one who had the strange tattoos on his face, but when she caught sight of Orainne looking at her, she smiled and came toward her.

"I am Niamh," she said softly. "What's your name?"

"Orainne," she whispered. "Are you a warrior as well?"

"No," she answered with a smile. "I am here for much the same reason as you." Her smile dimmed as memories assailed her, but she pushed them away and took the Orainne by the hand, leading her to the fire.

"Worry not about the knights, Orainne. They're very noble and caring, once you get to know them." Orainne cast a doubtful glance at Lancelot, sure that Niamh was gravely mistaken, at least about that one.

"Have you known them long?"

"Well, not really. But I've come to know them quite well in a short period of time. You will, too, Orainne." Orainne doubted that, but allowed Niamh to point out each knight and tell her their names.

Before long, the knights finished their tasks, and soon joined the women at the fire, causing Orainne to back up nervously. Niamh smiled comfortingly at her, and Orainne settled hesitantly back down, sliding closer to Niamh. Dayn was out with one of the others--Tristan, she thought--to hunt down something more substantial for everyone to eat, leaving Orainne with no one but Niamh to talk to.

It was plain to see that Orainne was a nervous wreck, for tension was pouring off of her in waves. Niamh slid behind Orainne and pulled the girl's rich dark auburn hair out of her cloak. As she ran her fingers through Orainne's hair, pulling strands of it into braids, she could feel the tension slowly leaving Orainne.

"When will Dayn be back?" she whispered to Niamh.

Unsure, Niamh relayed the question to Arthur, who replied that it should not be long, for they all needed rest.

"So, girl, how did you meet Dayn?" Caderyn asked, directing his gaze on Orainne. She looked to Niamh for a translation, her Latin not good enough for her to follow his words.

Niamh repeated Caderyn's question in Celtic, her curiosity mirroring that of the knights who waited expectantly for an answer.

"I dare not say," she murmured in response. Dayn had not said, but Orainne had a feeling that his friends knew naught of his acts against the Romans, and she could not tell of their first meeting without revealing the truth of Dayn's actions.

"Why not?" Niamh asked.

"It is for Dayn to say, not I," she answered quietly. After Niamh translated her answer for the knights, they grumbled a bit, but finally accepted the validity of her statement. It was Dayn's place to tell the knights. Still, Caderyn had hoped for an interesting tale, something to entertain him in lieu of ale. He wondered if he could convince the others to wager on a friendly game of some sort. Crossing to his saddlebags, he pulled a set of 6 dice out and brought them back to the fire. The flames would provide just enough light for a game or two.

He talked Bors into a game, and as they played, Orainne watched the game intently, her mind working furiously as she gleaned the rules. When Bors finally lost to Caderyn, he stomped back to the other side of the fire, mumbling curses under his breath as Caderyn counted his winnings. _Maybe I should have let him win, because there's no one else to play now, _Caderyn thought ruefully as he began to gather up the diceNo one was good enough to play Caderyn without losing some of their wages, except strangely enough, Hummingbird. He glanced up as a shadow fell across him, surprised when he saw Orainne looking from him to the dice with a hopeful expression.

Reaching out, she picked up three of the dice and settled herself across from him. With an expert toss of her wrist, she released the dice, and smiled with satisfaction as the numbers came up in her favor. She gave him a daring look, and with a grin he sat back down, picking up the remaining dice with the confidence of one who has gambled all of his life. _The girl probably doesn't have any money to speak of, but at least I'll have something to do for a bit, _Caderyn thought in amusement.

By the time Tristan and Dayn returned, Orainne had won back Bors' money, and also possessed a growing proportion of Caderyn's wages. Caderyn shook his head ruefully as Dayn came over to see what they were doing.

"She's vicious when she gambles, Dayn," he said regretfully.

"Oh…sorry, Cade, I should have warned you not to gamble with her. How much did she win off of you?"

"Too much. I keep this up, I won't have anything left to my name." _It wouldn't be the first time, _Dayn thought with a grin.

With a soft smile, Orainne pushed her winnings back toward Caderyn, holding onto Bors' losses only. Standing, she stood and walked over to where Bors was helping roast the venison that Dayn and Tristan had brought back. She gave him a tap on the shoulder, waiting until he turned to hold out his recovered money.

"Thanks, girl," Bors said with a grin as he accepted her offering. "So, you won, did you?" He laughed at Caderyn's misfortune, amused that Caderyn was experiencing the embarrassment of lost wages. "You just might fit in with us, girl," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

While Orainne was at ease with Caderyn and Bors, she was by no means comfortable with most of the others. She avoided Lancelot, fearful of what he may do, despite Dayn's reassurances that Lancelot wouldn't bother her. She also shied away from Arthur, as it was evident that he wasn't fond of Woads. His disapproval was clear, so Orainne did her best to give him space. The others she wasn't sure about, so she did what came naturally to her--she left them alone. _It wasn't as though they tried to be threatening…indeed, some of them seemed almost friendly_, she thought, but she just wasn't quite willing to test the theory. So, she stayed away from the others, preferring to merely watch the knights interact without her.

After sharing some of Dayn's portion of the venison, she quietly left his side and laid down on his bedroll, weary from all of the day's trials. She hoped Dayn wouldn't be long…she knew she wouldn't sleep until he was at her side. Dayn seemed to know that as well, for he left the fire shortly thereafter for his bedroll. As she rolled over to cuddle against him, Dayn smiled, and curled up protectively around her. _Perhaps my nightmares won't assail me tonight, now that Orainne is at my side, _he thought as he slowly drifted off to sleep, the sounds of the other knights settling down echoing in his ears.

* * *

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, and all around the fire, the knights came fully awake, hands automatically going to their swords. Not knowing where the sound originated, most of the knights looked to Tristan, confident that he would know. Tristan's eyes went immediately to the source of the screams--Dayn's bedroll--where Dayn was trying to wake a screaming Orainne.

Her eyes shot open, and for a second, she fought him, fearful of the restraining arms.

"Orainne!" The panic slowly bled from her eyes as realization returned. She hurled herself into Dayn's arms, sobbing inconsolably.

"Alright, I take back what I said about your nightmares, Dayn, for they pale in comparison to hers," Cei said ruefully. Dayn ignored Cei, instead trying to calm Orainne.

"It was a nightmare, love, nothing more. You're safe," he said, slowly rocking her as he looked helplessly at the other knights.

"No, Dayn," she sobbed. "It was more than that!" With that, she buried her face in his tunic, shaking her head as she continued to weep.

"Tell me."

"It was a message. People are dying, Dayn! The Saxons, they're killing our people, slaughtering whoever lies in their path."

"What are you talking about, a message?"

"It's a warning, sent by the gods. I fear the consequences if we do not heed their forewarning."

"Orainne, you fear needlessly. It was just a dream."

"No!" she shouted, pushing away from him. "You're not listening to me, Dayn! It was no mere dream--the Saxons are coming, Dayn, and we cannot outrun them!" She wiped angrily at the tears that still fell from her eyes, and then stretched an arm out to encompass all of the knights gathered around them. "Look at your friends, Dayn, for when the Saxons meet us, some of them may not survive."

"We are greater fighters than the Saxons, Orainne. We have nothing to fear from them!"

"Dayn, what's she saying," Caderyn asked, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

"She had a bad dream, Caderyn, that's all. She says the Saxons are coming, that we've been sent a warning from a goddess. Think nothing of it," he said. He loved Orainne, but having never been the religious sort, he didn't place much stock in her convictions of a divine warning.

"I knew it! We were doomed from the moment we left the wall," Cei exploded. "We're all going to die," he said worriedly, no longer finding Orainne's dream amusing.

"Cei, stop being a fool," Lancelot said, derisively. "The girl doesn't know what she's saying. We're all going to be fine, and in a matter of days, this will all be behind us."

"Are you sure about that, lad?" Aldric asked, his discerning gaze boring into Lancelot. "I think we should take her words for what they're meant to be--a warning."

"Aldric, you've always had more faith in gods and goddesses, and I've never questioned that, but this time you're letting it cloud your judgement," Lancelot argued.

"Gentlemen, we don't have the time for this. We already know the Saxons are on Britain's shores, and our need for haste remains. Since we're all awake, I suggest we mount up and ride out." _The sooner we finish this godforsaken mission, the better off we'll all be._

The mood was somber as they broke camp and continued their journey north, Orainne's portentous words weighing heavily on them all. While Arthur had put a stop to the budding argument over the validity of Orainne's dream, Aldric had a terrible feeling that her words would prove true, whether the knights believed them or not.

* * *

The air was thick with the anticipation of a coming storm as the knights approached the gates to Marcus Honorius' estate. Tristan had ridden ahead to scout, promising to return before snowfall. Niamh was left to ride with Dagonet, as they could no longer afford for the delay she would cost Tristan. Orainne, of course, remained with Dayn, clinging to him as though she feared he might disappear.

Dayn paid little attention as the guards at the gates questioned their presence

"I am Arthur Castus, commander of the Sarmatian knights and by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate." The gates slowly opened, as peasants looked on, and the knights swept in, reigning their horses in as they were approached by a dumpy looking Roman of obvious nobility."

"It is a wonder you have come! Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights." Dayn's horse shied nervously as peasants crowded in against them, and Dayn quickly soothed the horse. Seinng Caderyn lloking at him, Dayn grinned and moved Brina to Cade's side so they could speak.

"Damn, Cade, I knew we were well-known, but this is ridiculous. Do you think this is how the Romans' Pope feels, surrounded by a crowd of reverent peasants?" Cade snickered and they shared a grin before Dayn turned his attention back to Arthur's conversation with the Roman.

"…And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome."

"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons," Lancelot said wryly. Dayn chuckled, earning a stern look from Arthur.

"They're invading from the north," Arthur said, turning back to the Roman.

"Then Rome will send an army," Marcus Honorius said confidently.

"Pompous little man, isn't he?" Dayn said to Caderyn with a smart aleck grin.

"They have. Us. We leave as soon as you're packed," Arthur told Honorius, ignoring Dayn's side remark.

"I refuse to leave."

"Great! That's one less ass we have to haul back to the wall," Dayn cracked, wheeling his horse around as though he was preparing to leave. Most of the other knights heard him, and Arthur once more turned a stern gaze on them, silencing their laughter. _If Dayn keeps this up, he's going to single-handedly manage to alienate Honorius before we ever get moving,_ Arthur thought with annoyance.

"Go back to work! All of you! Get back to work!" Arthur watched as the Roman began to scream at the idle serfs, ignoring Arthur completely. Dayn's eyes narrowed as the fat little man's mercenaries began shoving the serfs, forcing them back. His attention was redirected from the mercenaries when Arthur dismounted. _Uh-oh. Someone's going to get it now, _Dayn thought as he watched Arthur stalk over to the squat little Roman noble and look him in the face with a deadly look

"If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land. So you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself. My lord."

"I'd pay to see that," Dayn murmured to Caderyn.

"I agree," Caderyn answered. "That would be quite a spectacle, wouldn't it? Do you think we could talk Arthur into going through with it?"

The two knights looked at each other, considering, then shook their heads, simultaneously saying a resolute "No."

"Lady, my knights are hungry," Arthur told the mistress of the house. Bors rubbed his stomach pointedly, nodding his agreement.

"Understatement," he mumbled to Dagonet. Dagonet kept quiet, but nodded, agreeing with Bors. Eating on the trail wasn't really filling. Especially if you were as big as Dagonet. Or Bors.

Bors was ready to lead the way to the food, but then he caught Arthur gazing past them to where an old man hung in chains. Arthur drew Excalibur, and Bors watched him stride forward purposefully.

Dayn watched Bors follow Arthur, preferring to remain where he was. Looking at Caderyn once more, he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Say, Cade, do you think we could fix it up so that Honorius has a little 'accident' on the way back?"

"Nah, Arthur will be expecting that from us--he'll be watching our every move," Caderyn joked.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Damn."

"Dayn," Orainne whispered, turning in the saddle to face Dayn. Dayn looked down, seeing her worried eyes looking up at him, and he grew concerned.

"What is it?"

"That building there," she murmered, pointing to a little stone outcropping, "something is wrong with it. Evil lies within its walls."

"Orainne, it's a building, nothing more. What's gotten into you? You've been nervous and anxious for days."

"I don't know, Dayn. But I know what I feel." Something in the way she said it sent chills through him, and he suddenly knew what she meant. The building was…wrong, somehow.

Before he could dwell on it any further, Tristan rode up at a fast gallop, reigning in beside Arthur. Dayn couldn't tell what he said, but he could see worry blossom in Arthur's eyes. Obviously, whatever Tristan had seen was enough to make Arthur concerned. Then, they heard it. Drums pounding in the distance. Orainne shivered, knowing that those drums signaled death. _Ok, it's definitely time that we were off. It's about to get really dicey here. _Apparently, Arthur thought so too, because he quickly rallied the serfs, urging them to prepare for the journey south.

"Surely, he doesn't expect to take them with us," Lancelot burst out, looking at the other knights incredulously.

"You know Arthur--always likes to keep us guessing," Dayn said with a smile. "Who knows?"

Orainne shook Dayn's arm to get his attention, turning her eyes in Arthur's direction. Dayn followed her gaze, sitting up straighter as he watched Arthur moving towards the stone outcropping where monks were walling up the entrance.

With a gentle kick, Dayn urged Brina forward, heading for the outcropping to see what was happening, with the other knights right behind him.

"What is this?" Arthur asked one of the monks threateningly. "You cannot go in there. No one goes in there. This place is forbidden," the monk said with a trace of madness in his voice.

"What are you doing! Stop this!" Dayn turned when Honorius hurried over, intent on interfering. Bors moved his horse, cutting him off while the others gathered in a loose circle around Arthur, daring the mercenaries to make a move against them."Arthur, we have no time," Lancelot said, turning his gaze on the mountains behind them, the source of the menacing drumbeat."Do you not hear the drums?" Galahad asked Arthur nervously."Dagonet," Arthur said pointedly, nodding towards the walled up doorway. Dagonet dismounted with ease, sliding his axe out of its place in the saddle. Walking determinedly toward the door. With an impressive swing, he pounded the wall down while the knights stood watching. The door soon followed suit, and Arthur grabbed a torch from the wall, preparing to move inside.

Dayn dismounted, telling Orainne to stay put, as he followed Lancelot, Gawain, and Dagonet after Arthur into the cellar, leaving the others to guard the entrance and watch after the two women. The smell hit them first, and Dayn grimaced, his disgust turning to horror as he realized the evil that had been done in this place. Cells lined the walls, filling every available space in the claustrophobic space. Chanting could be heard from deep within the structure, echoing off the walls, eerily blending with the shadows cast from the torch to create a surreal environment. Dayn shivered as he gazed around, a whisper of sound hinting at the cruelty within.

Lancelot handed the torch off to Gawain, freeing up his hands for his swords. Dayn pulled his own sword, unwilling to face what was below without a weapon in his hands.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" a crazed-looking monk asked, trying to bar the way inside.

"Out of the way," Lancelot sneered, shoving him aside so that they could pass. They gazed around in disgust and alarm, as they realized that they were surrounded by the dead. All around them, people hung in chains, their bodies lifeless as they had finally yielded to death.

"The work of your God. Is this how he answers your prayers?" Lancelot asked coldly. "See if there's still any alive," Arthur said, ignoring Lancelot's biting tone. The four knights split up to start checking the cells for anyone still alive. Meanwhile, the monk grabbed at Lancelot, trying to stall him.

"How dare you set foot in this holy place!" Furious, Lancelot drove one of his swords into the monk's gut, before releasing him to fall dead to the floor.

"There was a man of _God_," a second monk spoke, horrified at what Lancelot had done.

"Not my god!" Lancelot assured him angrily. Lancelot moved away, checking the next cell along the wall, only to find that its occupant was dead as well.

"This one's dead," Dagonet said, moving away from one cell as his heart grew more downcast.

"By the smell, they are all dead," Gawain said, his eyes meeting Dagonet's. He turned to face the other two monks. "And you. You even move, you join him," he said as he pointed with his sword to the monk that Lancelot had killed.

After checking four cells, Dayn was unable to bear the stench of death and decay any longer. He turned and stalked toward the entrance, trying not to throw up as he stepped out into the brisk, fresh air.

"What did you see, Dayn," Galahad asked curiously.

"Death." Dayn moved back, waiting for the others to come back, fervently hoping they would hurry, for he was more than ready to leave this place.

He was surprised when Dagonet came out a few moments later carrying a frightened little boy, and even more surprised when Arthur carried out a female Woad. _And I thought he didn't like Woads,_ Dayn thought in amusement. His amusement faded however, when he saw the condition of the only two survivors. Half-starved and terrified they were, and the pain in their eyes was evident when Arthur and Dagonet placed them gently on the ground. Hearing laughter, Dayn turned to see three of the Roman mercenaries standing together, and chuckling as Arthur called for water. Dayn's eyes narrowed as fury swept over him, and with quick, sure strides he walked towards the mercenaries, pulling his sword from the sheath at his back.

"Dayn," he heard Aldric call. But Aldric's voice came to him as though from a great distance, and it was easily ignored as rage swept over him. With a feral grin, he approached the mercenaries, and when they caught sight of him, they fell silent, nervous at the gleam of madness in Dayn's eyes.

"_Constitutum est omnibus femel mori_," Dayn said softly, laughing coldly as fear overcame the mercenaries. _It is enacted that all must die. _Even as he said the words, he knew not where they came from, nor did he care. The mercenaries began to back away, but it was already to late. With a sweep of his sword, he laid open the first mercenary's stomach, moving on to the second without even waiting for the first to fall. The second tried to fight back, but simply wasn't able to pull his sword in time to counter Dayn's. Dayn dispatched him with a quick blow to the neck, severing his jugular.

The third mercenary was ready for Dayn, bringing his sword up to parry just in time. But Dayn would not be hindered, and he swung his sword savagely, coming up under the man's guard. He caught the man's sword hand, his grip crushing the mercenary's sword hand until the mercenary was forced to drop his sword. With a cold smile, and a crazed gleam in his eye, Dayn drove his sword into the man's chest, burying it hilt-deep and reveling in the feel of the hot blood pouring over his hands.

Even as he gloried in the kill, he wondered where this bloodlust came from, for it seemed a faraway part of him, one that he didn't have any hold over. Turning, he saw more of the mercenaries standing nearby, and his gaze narrowed as he thought of killing them as well, even while his sword was still buried in the chest of the mercenary. At the same moment the thought was crossing through his mind, Aldric and Gawain rode up, blocking his path.

"You can't kill them all, Dayn," Gawain said quietly. Dayn looked up into Gawain's eyes, and as quickly as it came the fury was vented. Dayn withdrew his sword, watching as the mercenary fell to the ground with a heavy thud while the man's blood spattered his hands.

"Are you alright now," Aldric asked with concern. Dayn nodded, not yet trusting his voice to speak. He turned away, kicking at the body that had just fallen before he stepped away, listening as Aldric and Gawain rode back to where the others waited.

Lancelot came up behind him as he knelt to wipe his blade clean on the grass.

"Nice job, Dayn," Lancelot said with a smirk. "A bit messy for my taste, though. And I don't think Arthur's too happy with you." At Lancelot's words, Dayn turned to look at Arthur, meeting Arthur's gaze boldly, without remorse.

"Yeah, he's pissed," Dayn said, turning back to Lancelot and his sword. Lancelot shook his head and walked away, leaving Dayn alone to finish cleaning his sword. With a last swipe, he slid the newly cleaned blade back into the scabbard, coming to his feet at last. Walking towards a trough that held water, he washed off his hands, arms, neck, and face with the icy water, watching as the blood was rinsed away as though it had never been.

He knew not how long he watched the pink-tinged water drip from his fingertips, lost in his frenzied thoughts of killing. Following in Lancelot's path, he approached the others, who were standing around the Woad and the small boy. The boy clung to Dagonet, his chin quivering with fear.

Apparently, something had been decided while he'd stood apart from the others, because everyone was scurrying around, and Arthur was watching as men moved to put the wall back up.

"What happened?" Dayn asked Gawain.

"Arthur told them to wall the monks back up inside," Gawain answered with a grin.

"That's all good and well, but we're running out of time," Galahad said, casting his eyes nervously in the direction of the mountain.

"Yeah, if we expect to get out of here alive, we need to be moving," Cei said softly, not wanting Arthur to overhear.

"LET'S MOVE," Arthur called out suddenly, and Dayn grinned at Cei.

"He always did have a good sense of timing," Dayn said, laughing. Striding back to his horse, he swung himself up behind Orainne, and took hold of the reins and spurred Brina forward, falling in behind Arthur and Lancelot.

"Dayn," Arthur called behind him.

"Yes?" Dayn asked, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the horses' hoofbeats.

"We will speak of many things tonight. Be prepared." _Ah, shit, _Dayn thought, with a regretful sigh. He could only imagine how well that conversation would go.

* * *

A/N: Ok, the Latin that Dayn spoke came from an old Renaissance-era work, which I neglected to write source information down from when I found the quote in the first place. But, I believe that it came from a work entitled "A Lively Anatomie of Death…teaching to teach man to lyue and die well to the Lord" by John More. I thought it was cool, so I wanted to work it in to the story, which I think I managed to do quite well. Also, I'd just like to say that I haven't forgotten all of the Tristan-fans out there. I do plan to pull he and Niamh back in to the story a little more, but sometimes it just doesn't fit very well the best way certain chapters. Anyways, hopefully, the next chapter will not be so long in coming--I'm going to do my best to work on it, but I'm beginning to work on another fanfic as well, so I have to squeeze time in for both. But bear with me, and keep reviewing!

**chiefhow: **Hope you did well on your finals, chief. Sorry this has been so long in coming, but it takes time to write something worthwhile, don't you think? I know I said I would explain Niamh's presence, but it just wasn't happening in this chapter. But I have a pretty good idea of how I'm going to fit it in, and so it should be in the next chapter—think a fireside tale, here. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, and thanks for reviewing.

**Camreyn: **Yeah, those long reviews really do make a person happy, let me tell you. To answer your inquiry, I do plan to explain how Dayn got involved with the Woads—possibly in the next chapter. Chapter ten is going to be a doozy to write, because so much has to happen…I'm sort of dreading how long it will take me to write it, but alas, we do what we must. Oh, and just so you know, Niamh and Orainne do speak the same language—both are Celtic peoples, so both speak a Celtic language. The way I figure it, Niamh and Orainne are both of Britain, with the only difference being that Orainne is a Woad. Expect Arthur and Dayn to have a confrontation in the coming chapter—that's where all will be revealed, at least as of right now. Glad you like what I'm doing with my characters, as I'm making attempts to give them all some distinct "air time". I think I struggle the most with Galahad, for some reason…oh well…please keep reviewing!

**Shallindra: **Sorry I kept you waiting so long, Shallindra, but I hope this chapter was worth waiting for. Like I said, it's time-consuming to churn out a good chapter that's worth reading. I'll try not to keep you waiting so long between chapters. Keep reviewing, though, because it's really encouraging.

**HGandRHrforever: **Yeah, I left you waiting awhile, too, didn't I? Sorry. Hope you liked this chapter. And I didn't kill off any good guys in this one, like I did in the last with Tadhg, so at least there's that. Thanks for reviewing!

**squallsgurlygurl: **I got your email—that was sweet of you, to want to clear up the misunderstanding. It wasn't a big deal or anything, but I liked that you took the time to let me know. Glad you liked the story. I'm curious, though—can you elaborate more? What is it about Dayn's choices that annoy? I might can do more to explain his reasoning behind the choices, so that maybe they're not so unclear/annoying/insert word here. You know, I just realized after writing, that you may not have read this chapter, so I guess I'll email you and ask you to check, so that I didn't just write all of this for nothing--:) Anyways, thanks for the email.


	10. Chapter 10: The Will of a Goddess

Disclaimer: See other chapters. Also…there is a character present that another writer blessedly allowed me to use—thanks ModestySparrow9. Full acknowledgement for that is in the A/N at the end of the story.

Chapter 10: The Will of a Goddess

_Arthur has no idea who he's rescued, _Dayn thought with a slight smile, glancing at the female Woad in the wagon out of the corner of his eye. He momentarily considered telling Arthur, but just as quickly disregarded the idea. _No, I don't know how he would react if I were to tell him. Better that he know nothing of her true identity._

"Dayn, that's Guenevere," Orainne whispered.

"Yes, I know," he replied back to her, thinking how silly it was to whisper when no one besides Niamh could understand them anyway.

"What is she doing here, though?" Orainne asked, looking towards the wagon in confusion.

"That, I do not know. But I think it best we not appear too familiar with her. For now, just act as though you know her not. There will be time for questions later." _I hope. _He would love to know how Guenevere had come to be in that prison, but he had to use caution when approaching her lest the others grow suspicious. He had managed to speak with her for a moment earlier, and how enlightening the conversation was, he recalled with a shake of his head.

"_I know you." Dayn turned to see the female Woad that Arthur had saved staring at him from the shadows of the wagon that rolled alongside Dayn's horse. He slowed Brina down a little, urging her closer to the wagon. _

"_It's good to see you again, Guenevere. It's been a long time."_

"_Yes, too long, Dayn. Long has it been since I came to Illbrech's village. How is Orainne? Is she well?"_

"_She walks beside Niamh," he said, nodding towards the two who were playfully swinging a little girl between them. _

"_Have you told Arthur who I am?"_

"_No. I thought it best to use discretion."_

"_You must not tell him, Dayn. The time will come when he will know, but that time is not now."_

"_You know, you're just like your father, always giving puzzling answers that don't tell anyone anything of use." Annoyed with the cryptic bullshit, he rode up to ride beside Cei, wanting to ride with someone who would never speak to him in riddles. Cei didn't understand most riddles, and thus Dayn was assured that he would get nothing but straightforward conversation. _

Dayn left the warmth of the fire as he headed for the wagon where Orainne was helping Dagonet care for the feverish boy and Guenevere. Arthur had called a halt, sensing how close the serfs were to collapse. Now, fires were lit and the frightened people were settling down for the night.

As he neared the wagon, he glanced at the fire where Honorius sat with his remaining mercenaries. _I should have killed them when I had the chance._ Dayn eyed them suspiciously, halting in his tracks for a moment before continuing on toward the wagon.

"Dayn." He winced at the sound of Arthur's voice, knowing that the time had come for his 'talk' with Arthur. He slowly turned to face Arthur, meeting Arthur's gaze squarely.

"I don't suppose this could wait?" he asked, knowing that it was a futile request even as he asked it.

"I want answers, Dayn," Arthur said resolutely, walking forward to stand in front of Dayn.

"About what?" Dayn asked, playing innocent.

"An explanation for your recent behavior would be a good start. You're beginning to lose complete control over yourself, and I fear that one day, you're going to kill an innocent."

"I haven't killed anyone who didn't deserve death."

"Dayn, I understand why you killed the soldiers at Bremenium, but today you killed those mercenaries without provocation."

"What, you think them innocent men? Arthur, you're blind! Those men weren't innocent--they knew what was going on inside that prison and did nothing. That makes them just as guilty, and if it were in my power to kill them all, don't doubt for a moment that I would!"

"It is not our place to condemn others, Dayn."

"No, we just kill whoever the Roman Empire tells us to."

"We are soldiers, Dayn. As servants of Rome, we are called on to do our duty."

"Is that all, Arthur?" Dayn asked impatiently. "I'm not up for a debate on the politics of the Roman Empire."

"No. We're not finished here. I'm still waiting for an explanation."

"What would you like me to say, Arthur? That I'm sorry for killing those Romans? I'm not. I'm not sorry for them, or any of the others."

"Others?" Arthur asked. Dayn looked at Arthur, humor glinting in his eyes.

"Did you honestly think them the first Romans I've ever killed," he said with laughter in his voice. "Arthur, you know me--do you think I could be on this island for as long as I have without killing those who oppress others? I've been killing Romans from the moment I came to these lands."

"Is that how you came to be involved with a Woad?"

"That is a long story."

"I've got time," Arthur replied. For a split second, Dayn considered whether he really wanted to go into it, but with a mental shrug, he thought, _sure why the hell not._

"It was three years ago…like Tristan said." He could still remember how angry he was that day…

_Once again, he was being left behind. Another mission where Dayn was too young to come along. He was sixteen years old, but that wasn't good enough for Arthur. And Lancelot, stupid Lancelot, was always quick to point out Dayn's failings to Arthur. It was Lancelot's fault he was being left behind._

_As he watched the other knights ride out of the gates of Hadrian's Wall, he felt anger well up inside, raging hot in its intensity. _If Arthur won't take me with him, I'll find a mission of my own._ He hurried for the armory, taking up his sword and an extra dagger. In his anger, he really didn't have a specific destination in mind, but he wasn't about to miss all of the action because he'd been left behind. With any luck, he'd come across a Roman patrol that he could attack outside the garrison. Inside the garrison, he knew, was too risky. He'd almost gotten caught killing a Roman inside the walls that way, and he wasn't too eager to repeat that particular mistake. _

_Leaving the garrison behind, Dayn ran for the trees, heedless of the risk he was exposing himself to. The escape from Roman control that the forest offered was too good to pass up. He just wanted to leave it all behind--the pain, the helplessness, and the rage. Each day was an ongoing struggle to contain the fury that was a constant part of him. The forest offered him some reprieve from the Romans and all that they represented. _I wish you were here, brother, _he thought, feeling the familiar ache that filled his heart whenever he thought of Orren. It was the same wish that he made every day, especially when things got to be too much for him to handle. It was Orren who had steadied him, kept his anger from exploding. But now he was gone, and Dayn had lost the only control he had. Though it had been years, he still felt his twin's absence like a knife in his gut. _If only I'd had my skills with a blade then, I could have killed those Romans before they killed Orren.

_Reaching the trees, Dayn pushed the brush aside, ignoring the brambles that pulled at him. Finding a tree to his liking, he quickly scaled the lower limbs until he found a niche in the vee of the limbs to sit. With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and slowly felt his body begin to relax as the tension began to leave his body. The mist that typically engulfed much of the island was pleasantly absent, allowing the sun to penetrate the cloud cover to shine on his face. A sense of peace stole through him for the first time in a very long time. He took a moment to consider if this was how Tristan felt when he looked into the eyes of his hawk._

_Girlish laughter reached his ears, shattering the stillness of the air. He opened his eyes and silently slid forward, perching carefully on a large branch. Three girls, two about his own age and one slightly younger, stepped out of the brush, laughing and talking playfully. They were followed by a slightly older boy who looked none too happy about having to trail the three girls. _Woads. _Dayn watched them pass through narrowed eyes, angry that they'd ruined his peace of mind. They stepped out of the treeline and settled down on the grass, the girls still giggling as the boy grumbled to himself. _

_It was too late for Dayn to find a new tree--they'd hear him--so he stretched out along the branch to wait for them to leave. He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until a scream jerked him out of a sound slumber. Hearing the unmistakable sound of steel clashing against steel, he scrambled along the length of the branch he'd slept on, emerging from the shrouded trees to overlook the clearing where the four Woads had been enjoying the peace and quiet. But that peace was shattered by the arrival of a small Roman cavalry unit of about five Roman soldiers. _

_The boy who'd been with the three girls now lay on the ground with blood pouring from his side, while the youngest girl tried desperately to staunch the blood flow. Two Romans were holding one of the girls down, while the other girl attempted to fight off the remaining three who were surrounding her. Dayn pulled his sword from the scabbard slung across his back and dropped out of the tree, coming up in a crouch._

"_Let's even the odds a bit, shall we?" he asked with a cold smile. He stepped forward and with a vicious swing, eliminated one of the soldiers who held the Woad girl down. As the second soldier turned to face him, Dayn thrust his sword into the gap in the side of the Roman's armor. The Roman fell with an agonized scream, finally garnering the attention of the others. Dayn's eyes narrowed as the remaining three soldiers left the other Woad girl, coming to surround him. _

_Deciding not to wait for one of them to make the first move, he lunged forward, his sword catching the sunlight as he brought the flat of the blade down on the head of the Roman in front of him. The Roman fell without a sound._

"_Let that be a lesson to you. Never take off your helm." As Dayn turned to face the other two, he grinned maliciously as he watched one of the female Woads pick up a fallen sword and move up silently behind the soldiers who had mistakenly turned their backs on her. Dayn gave the soldier a mocking salute as the girl thrust her sword upward with a grunt as she drove it deep into the man's back. Dayn leapt forward, dispatching the last Roman with a strong sweep that cleanly separated the man's head from his shoulders. _

_As the last body fell, Dayn met the Woad girl's eyes as she stared at him with mistrustful eyes. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he stepped back and stopped near the Roman that he'd knocked unconscious. Without taking his eyes off the girl, he stabbed downward, striking a deathblow that would ensure that the Roman wouldn't live to tell the tale of what he'd seen. _

_A small hand on his_ _gauntlet shifted Dayn's attention to the youngest girl, who pulled him toward the Woad boy with a pleading look on her face. She knelt back down beside the boy, gazing up at Dayn with helpless eyes. Tears ran down her face as she looked down at the boy who lay unmoving on the bloodstained grass. Taking pity on her, he knelt down beside her, and with one look, he knew that the Woad boy would not survive. He gave her a pitying look and shook his head. She lunged at him, burying her head in his shoulder, and he patted her back awkwardly. The girl who'd killed one of the Romans knelt by the other girl, helping her to sit up as she looked with concern at the large cut on the girl's temple. Leaving the girl sitting against a tree, she walked towards Dayn cautiously, a manner that Dayn shared. _

"_Adima," she said pointing to herself. "Guenevere," she said pointing to the girl against the tree. "Orainne," she finished, nodding at the girl in Dayn's arms. _

"_Dayn," he said, answering her unspoken question. _

"_Why?" she asked him in her native tongue. Having lived among Britons for years, he had picked up enough of it to understand what she asked, but he didn't know how to give her an answer, so he just shrugged and looked down at the girl in his arms. She stepped back, her eyes still wet with unshed tears. She lifted a hand to wipe them away, but her hands were still red with blood from the boy's wounds, prompting Dayn to stop her. Lifting the edge of his cape, he wiped the tears from her face, smiling sadly at her as he stepped back. _

"_Help us carry Laeg?" Adima asked him. Dayn weighed his options, not sure if he should go with them or not. But it was painstakingly clear that the girls couldn't carry him back alone. Orainne looked too small to do much of anything, and it was obvious that Adima would have to help Guenevere who was none too steady on her feet after taking a blow to the head. With a sigh, Dayn nodded and knelt to lift the boy, Laeg. Orainne slipped the torc off her neck, and placed it around Dayn's. _

"_For safe passage," she said, though whether or not he understood her, she wasn't sure. He just nodded and hefted Laeg up, heaving him up and over his shoulder to carry him more easily. With a deep breath, he followed the three girls into the forest, hoping that he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life. _

"That's it, Arthur. After I met them, I went with them to Orainne's village, and I've been going there ever since."

"What about the other two girls? You didn't go to their village?"

"Guenevere and Adima are from one of the more northern tribes. They were only visiting with Orainne's tribe. Guenevere was kin to someone in Orainne's village."

"So, the Guenevere in the wagon there…"

"Is the same Guenevere I met those three years ago," Dayn answered, finishing Arthur's sentence.

"And the Romans you killed? What did you do with the bodies?"

"I left them where they fell, of course. What else would I do with them?"

"You just left them there to be fed on by scavengers, and it didn't bother you?"

"Well, Arthur, I can hardly waste the time to bury every Roman I killed. And they were hardly the first Romans I've ever killed, so it's not as though I felt any different about them then any other."

"You mean those weren't the first?"

"Gods, Arthur, no, of course not. I told you before--I've been killing Romans almost from the moment I set foot on this island."

"When was the first?"

"Honestly, I can't remember." Arthur shook his head at Dayn's answer, unsure of what to do about this revelation. He couldn't, in good conscience let Dayn continue to kill Roman soldiers, but neither could he bear to have Dayn arrested and executed for treason.

"You place me in a difficult situation, Dayn. Do you realize that?" Dayn looked down, feeling uncharacteristically guilty.

"You were never supposed to know, Arthur, I'm sorry. I tried to keep it from you."

"Go now, and do nothing more. I have to think on this." Dayn nodded, and turned to walk away.

"Arthur," he called back. "If you find yourself without options, I can disappear without difficulty."

"Dayn, if you did that, you would never be free to go home."

"Yes, well, little awaits me there. My mother died a long time ago, and the Romans took everyone else from me. My home is here now."

"Very well. I shall think on it. Goodnight, Dayn." Dayn nodded, and headed to the wagon to collect Orainne. _Well, that went better than expected. Of course, given time, it may sink in a bit, and Arthur could still wind up being furious. Oh well. _Never one to dwell on what may or may not occur, Dayn pushed it from his mind as he climbed into the wagon.

Niamh shivered as she left her spot close to the fire to spread out Tristan's bedroll a little ways from the flames. With the exception of Dayn who'd just left, Dagonet who tended the injured, and Arthur, the other knights were settling down around the fire, grateful for the brief respite from the trials of the day. There was a chill in the air, and Niamh suspected there would be more snow by morning. But she rather liked the snow, for it gave the ugliness of the world some semblance of beauty.

"Niamh, how did you come to be near the forest the day we found you?" Niamh froze in her task of spreading out Tristan's bedroll at Cei's innocent question. A tremor in her hands betrayed her, and she slowly dropped them into her lap, clenching her fists tightly.

"Cei, leave it," Tristan said quietly, his focus never wavering from the curved sword he was sharpening. From his place at the periphery of the fire, the flames cast shadows across him, masking his face as thoroughly as he masked his emotions. He, too, wished to know what events had transpired to result in Niamh being chained, but he knew instinctively that she was not ready to speak of it. And since Niamh wasn't ready to talk, he would discover what had happened through other sources. If he had to threaten or kill every last person at Hadrian's Wall to find out the truth, then so be it. The truth would keep, however, and Tristan was a patient man. He could wait until their return to the Wall.

Niamh slowly stood and walked away from the warmth of the fire, pulling the cloak Tristan had given her tighter around her shoulders. Finding a fallen log a considerable distance away from the others, she sat down upon it, burying her face in her arms as her eyes filled with tears.

Footsteps crunched in the snow, coming to stop beside her. Looking up through tear-filled lashes, she beheld Orainne looking down at her with concern. Orainne said nothing as she sat down beside her, putting a comforting arm around her. Wracked with sobs, Niamh could do nothing more than lay her head on Orainne's shoulder, grateful for the friendship that Orainne offered. Finally, her crying spent, she straightened, smiling bravely at Orainne who gently smiled back.

"Dayn will be looking for you," Niamh said, breaking the silence.

"He can wait. Are you alright?"

Niamh shrugged, turning her gaze upward to look distantly at the sky.

"I shall pray to the gods for vengeance upon the one who hurt me. Then…perhaps then all will be as it was before." Orainne nodded, casting a meaningful look at Tristan in the distance. She had a strong feeling that Tristan would be the tool through which the gods would answer Niamh's prayer.

"Will you tell him?" Orainne asked. Niamh followed her gaze to Tristan's form by the fire, watching silently as the sword in his hands caught the reflection of the flames.

"I don't know how," she said helplessly.

"When the time is right, you will find the words," Orainne replied softly. She rose to her feet, smoothing down the folds of her dress before holding out her hand to help Niamh up. "Come. It grows cold here, away from the fire, and it does no good to dwell on unpleasant things."

Niamh smiled and took the proffered hand, coming to her feet feeling better than she had before. Perhaps Orainne was right, and she would find a way to tell Tristan one day, but until then, she wasn't going to dwell on it.

She returned to the fire, letting Caderyn and Orainne attempt to teach her the dice game that they favored. They played until Dayn came for Orainne, looking annoyed that he hadn't found her in the wagon where she had been before. Caderyn turned to his own bedroll shortly after Dayn and Orainne retired, and Niamh looked around for Tristan, her eyes lighting upon his still form lying on his bedroll. She tiptoed toward him, uncertain if he was awake or not. But as she approached, his eyes opened and he stared at her, unblinking. Niamh hesitated for a moment before she made up her mind and lay down beside him. When he didn't object, she relaxed and slid up against him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. A second later, his arm came up around her, and she toyed with one of his braids, before falling into a peaceful sleep.

Darkness had fallen, and silence reigned as Dayn slept, and dreamed.

_The darkness took form, and mist parted to reveal a shaded place. A beautiful woman stood there, her long black hair cascading down her back in thick waves as she gazed at him with a calculating look. It was her eyes, however that caught Dayn's attention, their hellish, red orbs boring into him as though looking straight through him to his soul. Something, some inner instinct for survival, forced him to kneel before her as she came forward to stand in front of him._

"_Who are you?" he asked, staring up at her in confusion._

"_Really, Dayn, all our battles together, and still you know me not. Tsk, tsk," she said shaking her head at him. Suddenly, Dayn was bombarded with memories of all of his battles--the blood, the killing, and the frenzy._

"_Nemhain," he murmured, looking into her eyes. _

"_Yes."_

"_I'm dreaming. This can't be real."_

"_Of course you're dreaming. But who can say what is real and what is not? I come to you on this plane because it is easiest for both of us."_

"_Why?"_

"_You came to these shores many years ago, Dayn of Sarmatia, and your anger was a great force. We share an enemy, and because of the power of your rage, I decided to use you to fight the Roman trespassers. Alone you are powerful, but with my aid you are truly to be feared."_

"_All of those times when I lost control, when I killed without knowledge or remorse…that was you?" _

"_The anger was yours alone. I merely unleashed it, giving the rage you carry free rein to act."_

"_What would you have of me? For what purpose do you show yourself to me?"_

"_The time is fast approaching when the fate of my followers will be decided. You must aid Merlin and Guenevere in enlisting Arthur's aid, for my people have need of him."_

"_But Arthur hates the Woads. How can I convince him to save them?"_

"_You will find a way, for the answer lies before you." She seemed to glide back, slipping away from him as though she had never been, and Dayn called out. But she was gone, and nothing remained but the darkness and the mist._

Dayn's eyes shot open, and he gazed around in alarm, the darkness having not yet given way to dawn. A dense fog was rolling in, blanketing the still-sleeping forms of the others who were scattered around dying fires. Disentangling himself from Orainne, he sat up, silently picking up his sword from where it lay beside him. He stood, slowly walking deeper into the trees, his mind filled with a confusing jumble of images consisting of fallen enemies mixed in with those of a beautiful but deadly woman.

He could hear someone moving in the trees ahead of him, and as he pushed through the brush, he heard the sound of steel sliding against a scabbard, causing him to quicken his pace.

"You betrayed me," he heard Arthur exclaim furiously.

"He means you no harm," a second voice responded. _Guenevere. _He started to step out into the clearing when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Turning, he spotted Lancelot coming toward him, a worried expression on his face, sword in hand.

"No, Lance," Dayn said, moving to stand between Lancelot and the clearing where Arthur was now engaged in angry conversation with Merlin.

"Dayn, get out of the way!"

"No. Arthur's in no danger--Merlin wishes only to speak with him. You must let this happen, my friend. Without interference."

"Why?"

"Because things are happening, Lancelot, things we can't stop. These people, here, on this island, need Arthur, for only he can help them now."

"Well, it's nice to know where your loyalties lie," Lancelot said with a sneer.

"I've always been loyal to Arthur! Never question that!"

"Why shouldn't I question it? You've been secretly aiding the Woads for years, betraying _us_ for years!"

"I've betrayed no one! The Woads have always known that were I forced to choose between them and my brothers, I would choose my own. Lancelot, don't you see? The Woads are my allies, but you and the others are my family. I would never risk losing you and the knights, for you are all I have left. I help them sometimes, yes, because we share a common enemy. That's all." Lancelot's face softened as he saw the sincerity on Dayn's face.

"And I suppose that girl of yours has nothing to do with it, eh?" he added with a smirk. Dayn grinned back at him, shrugging helplessly.

"What can I say, Lance? I'm an easy target for a pretty face, and my woman certainly has that."

"Yes, that's true. But she's a little young for my taste. In a few years though, well, she might decide she finds me far more attractive than you, my friend…"

"Won't happen," Dayn said confidently. "She's terrified of you," he said with a smirk of his own.

"Terrified of me? Why?"

"Lance, you sit at the fire and glare daggers at her. What's she supposed to think? She burrows up against me every night, scared that you're going to kill her in her sleep."

"And you told her I wouldn't, right?"

"Of course I did! But you know women, right? How often do they listen?" A look of annoyance flashed on Lancelot's face, as he acceded that Dayn was right.

"I'll try to stop glaring at her, then. Will that help?"

"It might. Although, now that I think on it, it might be a better idea if she remains afraid of you. Then I won't have to worry about you trying to steal my girl, will I?" With a grin, he turned and came face-to-face with Arthur.

"What are you two doing out here?" Arthur asked sternly, his conversation with Merlin having sapped the last reserves of his patience. The two knights looked at each other guiltily before they both started speaking at once, each one trying to give an acceptable excuse for being outside the camp. "Nevermind," Arthur said irritably. "Just get back to the camp and stay there. You ought to get some sleep—we start early tomorrow.

Arthur brushed past them with a brusque nod, leaving them to follow him back. _I should wake Tristan, send him ahead to scout out the trail. _He hated to wake the scout, for Tristan was surely exhausted from the continually riding ahead to scout for Arthur. But there was no alternative—they had to be sure that the Saxons weren't going to overtake them before morning. Spotting Tristan's bedroll, he strode past the sleeping forms of some of the other knights and knelt down beside Tristan.

"Tristan." The scout's eyes opened and he nodded at Arthur without a word. Arthur stepped back as Tristan slid out of his bedroll, careful not to wake Niamh.

"Look after her," he said gruffly as he picked up his sword. Arthur watched him saddle his horse before he turned back and sat down with his back to a tree. Having given up his bedroll for one of the serf's two young children, the tree would have to do. He was tired, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep, blissfully free of having to think about the serfs, the Woads, or Merlin. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he closed his eyes, and the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him were the soft sounds of Dayn and Lancelot returning to camp.

Orainne opened her eyes, not sure what had woken her, but instinctively knowing that something was not as it should be. It was just after dawn, she figured, and no one else seemed to be stirring yet, but there was just some feeling that something was wrong. She shivered, fear beginning to take hold as an eerie feeling swept over her. Sliding out from beneath Dayn's arm, she grabbed a dagger from beside Dayn's sword, and slowly stood. She began to walk towards the wagons, pulled as though by some unseen hand against her will.

As she stepped around the corner of the wagon, her eyes widened in alarm as she saw Dagonet attempting to hold off three mercenaries. The Roman man held the little boy tightly in his arms, a knife at his throat. Knowing that she was of little use in a fight, and that she was incapable of saving the boy herself, she looked around in panic, desperately trying to figure out what to do. _Dagonet—if I can help him, he can save Lucan._ She darted forward and crawled underneath the wagon, emerging in a crouch behind one of the mercenaries. _Please Dagda, I know I'm no warrior, but I must not fail_, she prayed silently, her hands trembling as she gripped the dagger nervously. Knowing she'd run out of time, she lunged and stabbed the dagger deep into the back of the man's thigh, her goal not to kill him, only to slow him down. With a fierce roar, the mercenary turned with a murderous glare in his eye and backhanded her viciously, sending her sprawling to the ground. Her head impacted painfully with the bottom edge of the wagon, and she went limp as she fell into unconsciousness.

Panicked shouts pulled Dayn out of sleep, and he quickly grabbed at his sword, coming to his feet instantly. _Where's Orainne? _Pushing the worry aside for the moment he hurried to the source of the shouts on the other side of the wagons that separated the camp. As he rounded the last wagon, Guenevere was slowly lowering her bow and Arthur was stepping over the body of Marius Honorius with Lancelot, Caderyn, and Bors backing him up. The mercenaries stood in a loose semicircle around Dagonet, one of them bleeding from his thigh.

"You can help, or you can die." Dayn smirked as he watched the lead mercenary realize that he really didn't have any options. _Stupid Roman bastard. Too bad he's going to give in…otherwise, Arthur could kill him. But if I move closer, then I might have a chance to kill one of them if they do make the decision to fight,_ he thought with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Arthur glanced over at Dayn, and his eyes widened with alarm. _If Dayn sees Orainne lying there, we're going to have a slaughter on our hands,_ he thought worriedly. He motioned frantically at Gawain and Cei, desperately signaling to them to get Dayn's attention on something else. Just as the two knights were moving to intercept Dayn, the young knight's eyes fell on Orainne's still form.

Dayn's face contorted with agony and horror, hot rage washed over him in an overwhelming wave and with a bloodthirsty roar, he started forward, his sword upraised. Gawain and Cei lunged forward, grabbing Dayn's arms, but he fought them, his mind filled with a killing fury that would not be abated. The two knights struggled to hold him, for Dayn's strength was a force to be reckoned with when he was enraged. Bors galloped up on his horse, having come to investigate, and quickly saw the developing problem. Leaping out of the saddle, he joined Cei and Gawain, wrestling Dayn's sword from his hand.

Acting quickly, Niamh ran toward Orainne's still form. _If I can get Orainne sitting up, then perhaps Dayn can be calmed, for then he will know that she lives. _Niamh was basing this plan on the assumption that Orainne was still alive, for if she wasn't, then the mercenaries had no chance of surviving Dayn's wrath.

"Orainne, wake up," she pleaded, gently shaking Orainne's shoulder. "Please wake up!" She grabbed a fistful of snow and placed it on Orainne's neck, hoping that the cold would shock Orainne into waking.

"Niamh," Orainne whispered, her eyes fluttering. "Niamh, you have to stop them…the little boy and Dagonet…they'll be hurt," she murmured, her hand going to the gash on her forehead. She winced, tears filling her eyes at the painful cut and the pounding in her head.

"Orainne, come, you must sit up."

"Why," she groaned, as Niamh helped her into a sitting position against one of the wheels of the wagon.

"Because Dayn is going to kill someone if you don't."

"What?" Orainne exclaimed, wincing as her head exploded with pain from the outburst.

"He thinks you're dead, Orainne. You need to sit up, so he can see that you're not!" Leaving Orainne sitting slumped against the wheel, she hurried to where the knights were struggling to subdue Dayn, while Lancelot looked calculatingly at the mercenaries.

"Arthur, why not just save us all the trouble and let Dayn have a go at them," he suggested with a smile. Arthur didn't share his amusement, and he began to think that the only way to calm Dayn would be to give him a knock to the head. Just then Niamh ran forward, straight at the knights who held Dayn.

"Dayn! Orainne's alive, she's fine!" Dayn, so caught up in his fury, didn't appear to hear her, and she bit her lip anxiously. Just then, Orainne walked shakily over to the group, holding her head and none too steady.

"Dayn," she murmured. And like a switch being turned, Dayn stilled, his eyes going straight to Orainne. The other knights looked to Arthur for permission to let him go, and Arthur nodded. They stepped back, releasing Dayn to go to Orainne. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, relief pouring through him. He spared a glare at the mercenaries, his eyes promising retaliation.

The mercenaries dropped their weapons at their leader's command, and Arthur, seeing the expression in Dayn's eyes, motioned for them to move out of Dayn's sight. As they disappeared behind the wagons, Dayn stepped forward as though to follow.

"Dayn, stay away from them. That's an order." Dayn turned his blistering gaze on his commander, and Orainne looked up at him nervously, not sure what her lover would do.

"They deserve to die."

"Dayn, I will not say it again. I don't want you near them, and if that is too difficult for you to manage, then I will tie you to your horse where you will remain until we reach Hadrian's Wall. Is that understood?"

Dayn was silent, trying to gauge how serious Arthur was. _Surely he wouldn't really tie me to the saddle, not for killing a mere Roman mercenary. Mercenaries are swine—no one will miss them._ But the look on Arthur's face denoted his sincerity, and Dayn decided he must really mean what he said. _I'll just wait until we're back at the wall. I'll kill him there, when Arthur's not watching._ His mind made up, Dayn nodded, and turned his attention to the cut on Orainne's forehead that still oozed blood.

"You will tell me which one of them did this," he whispered in her ear. Looking up at him, she nodded.

"Yes. But later. I think I should like to ride in the wagon today, Dayn. I'm far too dizzy to ride." He nodded, helping her to the wagon and lifting her up inside. Dagonet, already inside the wagon, took her hand after Dayn lifted her up, and helped her lie down.

"I'll see to that cut," he said quietly. With a soft thank you, she closed her eyes, not opening them when he began to wash the cut. Sleep soon claimed her, and the pain of her headache faded to a dull ache.

Outside, everyone prepared to move out. Tristan had just ridden up, and his news had not been good. The Saxons were close, and there was no time left. Guenevere climbed back in the wagon to sit with Orainne, while Lucan begged to ride with Dagonet on horseback.

_Dagonet is such a kindhearted man, _Niamh thought with a smile as she watched Dagonet lift Lucan into the saddle. She waited in the saddle behind Tristan, her arms loosely around his waist as everyone prepared to ride. As much as he loathed to admit it to himself, Tristan liked having Niamh with him. Having the warmth of her at his back was a welcome change from the cold aloofness he was so used to. He didn't even fully understand it, and it bothered him that he couldn't figure it out. Tristan had never been one to allow his emotions reign over him, but he had a bad feeling that Niamh's presence was going to reduce his control to nothing.

In short order, the caravan was moving once again. The other knights rode in a loose circle around Dayn, wary that he may try to move against the mercenaries despite Arthur's warning to the contrary.

A few hours later, Dayn could hear Guenevere and Orainne giggling together, and he was reminded of that first day he met them, the sound of their laughter surprisingly similar to what it had been those years ago. Dagonet rode up beside him, Lucan sitting happily in front of him, oblivious to the danger they were all in. _The boy deserves to be happy after what the Romans did to him. Let him be ignorant of the Saxon threat for awhile. _Sitting there on Dagonet's horse, a proud smile on his face, it was the first time Dayn had seen the boy smile.

"Dayn." Dagonet's voice shifted Dayn's attention away from Lucan, and he looked at Dagonet questioningly. "You should be proud of her," he said, nodding toward the wagon that held Orainne.

"Oh? Why?"

"The reason she was hurt…she was trying to help me. She stabbed one of them in the leg with a dagger—one of yours, I presume. He hit her then, and she fell. That's when she hit her head on the wagon, when she fell."

"I didn't know," Dayn said, suddenly understanding why one of his daggers had been missing this morning. "That explains where my dagger went."

"I'll buy you a new one when we get back to the wall."

"You don't have to do that, Dag. If my dagger helped save you, then it was well worth it. You owe me nothing."

"No. I said I will buy you a replacement, and I will." Dayn knew better than to argue with Dagonet when he used that tone, so he shrugged and conceded to Dagonet. "Your girl, she knew she would get hurt when she came to my aid. She stabbed his leg when she could so easily have stabbed him someplace fatal. She didn't want to kill him, though."

"Orainne isn't a fighter like us, Dag. She doesn't like to kill." Dayn thought about it for a minute before he grinned at Dagonet. "Besides I kill enough for the both of us."

"That's true," Dagonet said, ruefully shaking his head at Dayn's well-known thirst for blood. He was quiet for a moment, and Dayn knew that the normally stoic knight had something on his mind. Dayn remained silent, wanting to give Dagonet time to think on what he wanted to say.

"Listen, Dayn…if it should come to a fight with the Saxons that are following us, you protect your woman. The rest of us can take care of ourselves, but she can't." Dayn nodded, hoping that it wouldn't come to that. It would kill a part of him if he was forced to choose between his love and his brothers.

_Nemhain, if you care even a little about my well-being, don't let that happen._ Dayn wasn't one to put his trust in unseen beings, but just this once, he wanted to believe, he needed to believe. Because he couldn't bear it if his worst nightmare were to come to pass.

A/N: First of all, I have to thank ModestySparrow9 for the use of Adima, which for those of you who have been reading Heart of the Hawk, will find quite familiar. So, thanks Modesty! For anyone who is curious, Dagda is a Celtic god who encompasses many different qualities, which basically equates him to a god who can be counted on for the general prayer that Orainne is making. Also, I know some of you are still wondering what happened to Niamh, and I know you expected to get some answers, but it wasn't right for this chapter. BUT, I do have a plan for it, now, and I know exactly where I'm going with it (for once) so please be patient. You'll have to wait until the return to the wall to find out—just like Tristan.


	11. Chapter 11: A Sense of Foreboding

Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah…tired of writing these…see previous chapters.

A/N: For anyone who cares, I've started updating my URL, so if you'd like to know what sort of progress I'm making on a chapter at any given time, a note will be there to let you know. Oh, and Camreyn—I went back and reread Chapter 10, and I understand now why you got confused about Dagonet there at the end…a serious typo that I missed. I've gone back and fixed the typo, so it should clear things up a bit.

Chapter 11: A Sense of Foreboding

Dayn lay awake that night, holding Orainne tightly to him. _She could have been killed today,_ he thought, his eyes burning with hatred. After riding all day with the knights watching him intently for signs of murderous intent, he was finally free of their watchful eyes. _It would be so easy,_ he mused, his hand itching to pull his dagger free from the scabbard that rested at his side. _So easy to bury the hilt in the back of that unsuspecting bastard that hurt Orainne. _Tomorrow would be too late, because they would be on the last leg of their journey, and once they reached the wall, his chance would be lost. He still seethed with rage, angry at Arthur for letting the mercenaries live after they had attacked not only Orainne, but Dagonet as well. _They can't be trusted, and Arthur's a fool for letting them live. _

With a gentle nudge, he woke Orainne, and bent his head to whisper in her ear.

"Show me which one hurt you," he commanded softly. With a silent nod, she sat up carefully, looking intently at the mercenaries who slept nearby. After a moment of study, she pointed at the man who had hit her, meeting Dayn's eyes steadily. His eyes narrowed and he cautiously climbed to his feet. He looked around intently, listening to make sure that whichever knights were on watch were far enough outside the camp's perimeter that they remained unaware of him. Satisfied, he began to creep past the still forms of the knights and the numerous peasants that slumbered around them.

"Dayn." Dayn froze at the sound of the voice, wincing. _Shit._ He turned to face Tristan, who watched him with an intense gaze.

"Tristan, I…" Dayn began, struggling to come up with a legitimate excuse. _Make it good, Dayn—he'd never been able to effectively lie to Tristan._

"His armor isn't secure on the left side," Tristan said, cutting him off. "Aim for the ribs, and thrust deep." With that, Tristan rolled over, turning his back on Dayn resolutely. With a mischievous smile, Dayn shifted his grip on the dagger in his hand and moved purposefully toward the doomed mercenary. He'd have to move quickly to keep the mercenary from alerting the others.

In the blink of an eye, Dayn came up behind the Roman and grabbed him from behind, putting a firm hand over his mouth to prevent him from calling out for help. _I could cut his throat and end it now, but that would be too easy,_ Dayn thought as he recalled the nasty bruise on Orainne's forehead and his fear upon seeing her lying motionless on the ground. _No, a quick death would be too good for this Roman cur._

"No one hurts my woman," he said coldly, and with a quick jerk, he thrust it upward into the weak point in the man's armor. It slid in easily, and Dayn felt the hot spurt of blood on his hand as the dagger tore through the mercenary's side. _Tristan was right, _he thought with a flash of admiration. _Sly bastard, I just don't know how he does it._

Dayn held tightly to the struggling mercenary until his movements finally stilled and the life had drained from him. _Now, to get rid of him…_Bending over at the waist, he boosted the body onto his back, careful not to let the blood stain his clothing. _No, it wouldn't do to give myself away now, would it? Besides, I can't give Arthur any reason to suspect me. Not that Arthur won't already suspect me, but the least I can do is not incriminate myself._ Wincing at the weight of the body, he slowly made his way into the trees, ever on the lookout for any passing knights on watch. He had no idea which knights were on watch at this point, but he didn't want to find out the hard way. If it were Caderyn, it wouldn't necessarily be a problem, because Caderyn really didn't give a damn if Dayn killed one Roman or twenty. But someone like Galahad…_yeah, Galahad would give me up in a heartbeat. He's too much of a bleeding-heart for the life we lead. _In all honesty, Dayn felt sorry for Galahad. It was much easier to be a stone-cold killer, because there was nothing to feel bad about later. He shared that belief with Tristan, he knew, but not many others. _Maybe Lancelot._ But Dayn and Lancelot weren't ones for deep discussions on their personal philosophies on killing, so Dayn couldn't know for sure. Dayn was helped by the fact that he couldn't actually recall most of the people he'd killed over the years. It was hard to mourn your actions when you couldn't remember them.

He was back well before dawn, sliding back into his bedroll where Orainne slept soundly. He snuggled up against her, and pulled her back into his arms. She came willingly, turning so that she faced him. With a sleepy smile, she kissed him, a kiss that he gladly returned. She was asleep again even before he pulled back, and he smiled, loving her all the more. Content, he held her close and shut his eyes, gladly succumbing to sleep.

Tristan heard Dayn come back, and he nodded to himself, knowing that Dayn had taken care of it. With Niamh nestled against him, he could, for the first time, understand the fierce need to defend one's woman. Dayn had a right, or rather, an obligation, to kill the mercenary for hurting Orainne. Tristan had lived most of his life without the softer emotions, so he didn't know much about love. But, if love was killing to protect someone else, then Tristan imagined he knew a great deal about that. At times, Tristan felt a dark loneliness well up inside him, and despair ate at him as he imagined himself being forever cut off from the rest of humanity. But now…now Niamh was here, and perhaps he had a chance after all.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur fought the temptation to curse as he realized that the caravan was minus one mercenary. _Dayn. Why didn't I have him watched? I know Dayn—I should have known he'd try something the moment an opportunity presented itself, and I practically handed him one. _Glancing around, he saw no trace of the missing Roman, and he clenched his jaw tightly. _What did he do with the body?_ The only remaining trace of the mercenary was his empty bedroll and the dark pool of blood that marked where he'd lain. There wasn't even a trail of blood leading away, nor were there any footsteps.

"Dayn!" he called, feeling his head beginning to pound as stress mounted.

"What?" Dayn asked, arriving a moment later rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

"Where is he?"

"Where's who?" he asked with his face the picture of innocence.

"Don't play the innocent with me, Dayn," Arthur said, feeling his anger mount at Dayn's nonchalant attitude. "When we camped for the night, there were three mercenaries here. Now there are but two, and I want to know what you've done with him." Hearing Arthur's tone, the other knights gathered around, curious to find out what had happened.

"Oh, so a mercenary goes missing, and you automatically assume that I had something to do with it," Dayn replied with a wounded look.

"Did anyone see anything last night that would explain the absence of the third mercenary?" Arthur asked, looking around at each of the knights standing around them.

Gawain and Galahad had been on watch the previous night, and both confirmed that they'd neither seen nor heard a thing. "Tristan?" Arthur asked, looking to the ever attentive scout. Tristan looked at Dayn, and Dayn held his breath, not certain what Tristan's response would be. _He covered for me last night, but I've never known him to lie to Arthur…_

"The mercenary left through the trees in the night." Dayn barely kept his jaw from dropping as the lie fell from Tristan's lips. _Damn that man can lie,_ he thought, awed at Tristan's ability to lie with his gaze never once wavering. And Arthur accepted Tristan's explanation without question.

"Very well. Dayn, I apologize. I was wrong to suspect you prematurely." Dayn nodded, and watched Arthur walk away. The other knights broke up as well, returning to their tasks, and Dayn turned to Tristan.

"How come?" Dayn said simply, his eyes questioning.

"He deserved it," Tristan answered shortly. Turning his back, he walked back to where Niamh was rolling the bedroll up, taking it from her to secure it to his saddle. "Oh, and Dayn?"

"Yes?"

"In the future, it is best not to hide a body near water." Dayn's eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know I hid the--" Dayn started, but Tristan gave him a look that stopped him. _Of course, my mistake, because of course Tristan knew where I hid the body. Because Tristan sees everything._ Shaking his head, Dayn went to help Orainne mount his horse.

"Is everything alright, Dayn?"

"Yes, for the time being." _Now, if we can just manage to outrun the Saxons that are trailing us._

* * *

Tristan left Niamh in the care of Aldric, and rode ahead as Arthur requested. The lake was ahead, he knew, and there was no avoiding it. The other knights had been told, and while no one had spoken, there were some obvious misgivings about the wisdom of crossing a lake with an entire caravan of peasants, horses, and the other livestock that the peasants had thought to bring along.

Lancelot rode alongside Arthur, mulling over a number of troubling thoughts. Arthur glanced over, just in time to see Lancelot glaring in the direction of the wagon before he turned forward once more. Gawain caught Arthur's eye from behind them and looked questioningly towards Lancelot, as though to say "_What's with him?" _Arthur shook his head before turning back to look at Lancelot once more. He debated with himself for a long moment, uncertain whether he should bring it up or not, but he finally realized that unless he did, Lancelot would not speak of it.

"Why do you stare at her so?" Lancelot started at Arthur's soft-spoken question, caught off guard by the sound of Arthur's voice intruding on his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, scowling at the interruption.

"Guenevere. We've all noticed how you watch her." There was no accusation or recrimination in his voice, just a mild curiosity at Lancelot's seeming interest in the Woad.

"I don't trust her, Arthur," Lancelot said, lowering his voice. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he shook his head. "We should have left her behind and let her own people take care of her."

"You would have left her to face the Saxons?"

"Yes! Dayn's girl is bad enough, but at least we have him to vouch for her. Guenevere comes with no such guarantee."

"I see," Arthur said calmly, his disappointment clear.

"No! You don't see!" Lancelot exclaimed. His sudden outburst was followed by silence, his mind in turmoil as Arthur looked on.

"Lancelot, what's wrong?" Arthur asked, seeing the uncertainty and doubt on Lancelot's face, an unusual occurrence. Lancelot was always so confident that Arthur sometimes forgot that he had doubts and fears just like any man.

"Nothing's clear anymore," Lancelot said after a moment. "Everything was so simple before. We rode out, killed Woads, and returned to the Wall for our next mission. Now…now, I can't tell who the enemy is anymore." He looked ahead, staring blankly at nothing before he looked at Arthur with a helpless shrug.

"The world is not a simple place, Lancelot," Arthur said gently. "But what else can we do but go on?"

"Yes. The world is amoral and uncaring, and we must go on," Lancelot replied with a sarcastic tone. "But I still don't trust her," he finished. He turned his horse, no longer wishing to discuss his misgivings with his friend. Arthur watched him go, feeling pity for his friend. How well he knew that Lancelot was no scholar or philosopher, but a warrior who just wanted things to continue as they were. Would that the world worked that way.

* * *

"I hope Tristan knows what he's doing," Cei said to Gawain as they rode closer and closer to the frozen lake.

"Well, of course he does, Cei," Gawain said confidently. "He's never been wrong before about these things."

"Yes, but it's never too late for a first time," Cei mumbled.

"Are you worrying again, Cei?" Caderyn said, ribbing his friend in a good-natured way. "Honestly, Cei, you're starting to sound like an old woman," he said with a laugh.

"We're so close to our freedom, and yet it could all end in a heartbeat if the lake doesn't hold," Cei said angrily, not taking kindly to Caderyn's teasing. "So excuse me if I have a few misgivings about crossing a lake that could kill us all!"

"Aw, Cei, Caderyn didn't mean anything by it," Gawain said, trying to soothe the hurt feelings. Cei was sensitive in a way that was a bit odd for a knight, and it wouldn't do to have him upset with Caderyn. But Cei was having none of it, and he spurred his horse, riding ahead to catch up with Lancelot. Gawain turned to Caderyn with a reproachful look.

"Caderyn, you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"Ah, Gawain, come on, I was just teasing."

"You know he's been worried—you've only made it worse," he admonished. "If it was Bors or Lancelot, you know I wouldn't say anything, but Cei…he's never taken well to being teased—you know that!"

"Alright, alright, I'll talk to him," Caderyn said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "When did you become a mother-hen?" Shaking his head, he spurred his horse and went after Cei, leaving Gawain to shake his head ruefully.

"Gods, he's right," Gawain murmured to himself in disgust. "That's Aldric's job, not mine."

"Gawain, what are you mumbling about?" Galahad asked from behind him, a curious look on his face.

"Nothing, Galahad. Nothing at all."

* * *

A sense of foreboding came over Orainne, and the farther they traveled, the worse it became. As the air took on a more menacing overtone, Orainne began to shiver as she recalled her latest dream. She hadn't told Dayn, for she knew he would not believe her. _If I told him, he would only laugh it away and say it was nothing more than a dream. He hasn't the faith to believe in dreams,_" she thought. _If only he would believe…_

"Are you cold?" Dayn asked, feeling her tremble in his arms as they rode.

"No," she murmured.

"Then what is it?"

"Something bad is going to happen, Dayn. I just know it."

"You sound like Cei," he said with a gentle squeeze. With a sigh, she pushed his arms away from her, upset that he didn't take her fears seriously.

"Whether you believe me or not, it's going to happen, Dayn. Let me down, please." Knowing her tone brooked no room for argument, he stopped his horse and helped her slide off. With a look, she gazed up at him with pity on her face.

"I fear you're going to see before the end." She turned and walked away, not wanting Dayn to see the tears in her eyes. _Morrigán, please don't let my dream come true,_" she pleaded, praying to the goddess of prophecy and divination._ Please…let it be as Dayn said—nothing more than a dream._ Even as she prayed, she had a terrible feeling that it was not to be so.

* * *

"Is there any other way?" Arthur asked, looking at the wide expanse of frozen water in their path.

"No. We have to cross the ice," Tristan said, never one to mince words.

"Get them all out of carriages. Tell them to spread out," Arthur said, resigned to the fact that they had no other choice. Dismounting, the knights began to spread out, letting the peasants follow their lead. The ice creaked beneath them, and Dayn looked hesitantly at Tristan, his eyes asking a silent question. _Will the ice hold? _With a nod, Tristan reassured him, and Dayn let his worry fade. If Tristan said it was safe, then it was safe.

Orainne walked alongside him, holding his hand, trusting that they were taking the right path. The rest of the caravan trailed behind them, waiting for the knights to determine that the lake was safely frozen. Seeing that the lake held, the caravan slowly began to make its way across, going ever so cautiously, ready to stop at the slightest hint that the ice may be breaking. Horses shied nervously at the groaning of the ice beneath their hooves, and knights and serfs alike struggled a bit to calm them.

They weren't even halfway across when a menacing drumbeat began to reverberate across the lake. The knights froze, looking at one another, then at Arthur, wondering what they were to do. Behind them, the peasants stopped as well, knowing that something was wrong, murmuring to one another in frightened tones.

"Well, I'm tired of running," Bors said. "And these Saxons are so close behind, my ass is hurting."

"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan said calmly, looking at Arthur with a steady gaze.

"It'll be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain added.

"We'll finally get a look at the bastards," Galahad said with bravado, trying to hide his worry.

Dagonet moved to remove his axe from its customary place on his saddle, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

"Here. Now," he said calmly, with a firm nod.

"I'm always up for a battle, you know that. If not Romans, then Saxons will do," Dayn said with a mischievous smile.

"Jols." Without a word, Jols responded to Arthur's unspoken command, turning to the serfs who stood hesitantly behind them.

"You two, take the horses," Jols ordered, moving towards the supply wagon that held many of the knights' extra weaponry.

The knights moved to unload any weapons they carried on their saddles, preparing to face what was sure to be overwhelming odds.

"Ganis, I need you to lead the people," Arthur said, turning to the serf who followed behind eagerly. "The main Saxon army is inland so if you track the coastline until you're well south of the wall, you'll be safe."

"You're eleven against two hundred!" Ganis exclaimed, looking at Arthur in alarm.

"Twelve. You could use another bow," Guenevere said smartly. She brushed past them with a raise of her eyebrow, as though daring Arthur to argue.

"I'd rather stay and fight," Ganis said, frowning as he and Arthur watched Guenevere collect a bow from Jols at the supply wagon.

"You'll get your chance soon enough," Arthur told him. He turned to the remaining mercenaries, staring at each of them sternly. "This man is now your captain. You do as he says, am I understood?"

"Yes sir," one of them answered, speaking for himself as well as his comrades.

"Wait, you're just going to trust them to do as you say?" Dayn broke in angrily. "What's to stop them from killing these people as soon as they're out of sight?"

"Dayn, I'm not going to argue the point with you. Now, go."

Dayn responded with an angry look before walking back to Orainne who stood with his horse, the reins held loosely in her hands.

"Dayn, what's happening?"

"We stay and fight. You're to go ahead of us with the caravan. We'll hold them off, give the rest of you time to get to the Wall. You'll be safe there."

"No, Dayn," she cried, shaking her head. "I will stay here with you."

"You can't. You must go, Orainne. If you stayed, and something happened to you…I couldn't bear it. Do you hear me? I'd die if anything were to happen to you," he said, gripping her by the shoulders as he struggled to convince her of his sincerity. Staring into his eyes, Orainne knew she would have to leave him behind, and the thought tore through her. She hugged him to her, clinging to him desperately as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Dayn, please don't stay! Come with me," she cried, trying frantically to change his mind. Anything to keep him with her.

"Love, I can't go with you. I have to stay and fight. To make sure you make it safely back. Besides, I can't leave them to face the Saxons alone," he said, looking back at the knights who were preparing themselves for combat. "They're my brothers, Orainne. We're held together by ties of blood and brotherhood, and I won't--I can't--leave them to fight without me."

Knowing that Dayn wouldn't be swayed, she grabbed him around the waist, holding on to him as though she could hold onto him forever. He cupped his hands around her head, kissing her deeply, wishing it didn't have to end. But reality intruded, as it so often did, and he finally pulled back, resting his chin on the crown of her head. She clung to him, wanting the moment to last, but knowing it was futile.

"Arthur ordered the mercenaries to go with the caravan, under Ganis' command," he murmured. Slipping the dagger out of the scabbard at his waist, he thrust it into her hand. "Be on your guard, for I trust them not." He held her for a moment longer, wishing he could reassure her more, but knowing that it was wrong to give her false hope. Finally, with a kiss to her forehead, he stepped back, his hand caressing her cheek. "Go with the others, Orainne. I need to know that you're safe."

Orainne watched him join the others, tears rolling down her face. Niamh walked up beside her, putting her arm around her.

"I know how you feel," she said softly, eyeing Tristan with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He had said nothing to her, only passing the reins of his horse to her with a resolute nod. She had expected nothing less, for Tristan was a man of few words, and when it came to his feelings, he was a man of even fewer words.

"I fear I won't see him again," Orainne said, crying softly into Niamh's shoulder.

"We must not give up on our men, Orainne," Niamh said, hugging her. "Besides, you said it yourself—the goddess watches over Dayn. Think you she would let something happen to him?"

"I suppose not," Orainne said quietly, wiping her eyes.

"Come, let us leave them to their duty, and pray the gods watch over them."

* * *

Dayn watched Niamh lead Orainne away before he turned his full attention to the battle to come. _I hope you're watching, Nemhain, because this one has all the looks of being one hell of a battle,_ he thought as the knights and Guenevere began to line up, preparing to make their stand.

He looked at Caderyn on his left and Bors on his right, his brothers in arms. With a grin, he turned to Caderyn.

"How about a friendly wager, Cade? Whoever kills the most Saxons pays the winner a month's wages." With a gleam in his eye, Caderyn nodded, always agreeable to wager.

A deep silence permeated, with no other sound but the wind whistling through the trees and the ominous sound of the Saxon drums. Each of the knights faced forward, ready to face their pursuers, ready to end it. And finally, the Saxons were before them, and the time had come.

"Hold until I give the command," Arthur said firmly…

A Saxon archer stepped forward, launching an arrow through the air, trying to gauge the distance between their army and the knights. Dayn smirked as the arrow hit the ice and slowly slid to a stop.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said. "Bors, Tristan."

"We're far out of range," Guenevere said, looking at Arthur in disbelief. Arthur watched as Bors and Tristan raised their bows and released their arrows into the unwary Saxons.

The Saxons began to scramble forward, and the knights brought up their bows, preparing to fire on Arthur's command.

"Aim for the wings of the ranks. Make them cluster," Arthur called out. _If we can force them to move to the center, then, God willing perhaps the lake can defeat our enemy for us. _A deadly volley of arrows rained from the sky on the Saxon army, and Dayn smiled in satisfaction as the Saxons began to fall.

They failed to notice the Saxon archer who managed to shoot off an arrow with the range necessary to reach them.

As Dayn grabbed his sword, a choking sound caught his attention and he turned to see Cei drop his bow, a stunned expression on his face. To Dayn's horror, an arrow protruded from Cei's chest and blood was beginning to trickle from his mouth.

"Cei!" Dropping his sword, Dayn caught Cei as he began to fall, cradling him to his chest as he lowered him to the ground. "No!" Dayn cried, not knowing what to do as he watched the life spilling out of Cei onto the cold ice.

"I was so close," Cei gasped. "My freedom was finally within my grasp…" He struggled to speak, trying to breath past the blood that was welling up in his mouth.

"Don't say that, Cei! Your freedom awaits you still, Cei, please!" Dayn pleaded, tightening his hold on Cei, trying to will strength into Cei's rapidly failing body. But it was to no avail. With a final gasp, Cei was still at last, and Dayn stared in stunned dismay, a look of confusion on his face. The battle raged around him, but Dayn was oblivious, trapped in grief.

"It's not going to crack. Fall back. Fall back!" Arthur yelled, dropping his bow. "Prepare for combat!" But the Saxons kept marching, and Arthur realized with a sinking feeling that the ice was holding firm.

"Dayn! Dayn?" Caderyn yelled, turning to see why Dayn was no longer at his side.

Grief and outrage welled up inside Dayn, and his eyes took on a crazed gleam as he let loose a powerful scream, rage-filled and distraught. An eerie silence fell over the lake as the scream echoed, and chills went up the spine of every man there. Shaking with fury, Dayn grabbed his sword, and released Cei's body, yearning for revenge.

He started forward, oblivious to Arthur's cries. The Saxons quickly moved to counter him, desperate to take out the knights. Dayn dodged an arrow, and another before a third struck. The force threw Dayn back, and he hit the ice hard, stunned, but only for a moment. He jumped to his feet, only to be forced back down when someone jumped on him from behind.

Caderyn struggled to hold Dayn down—no easy task when Dayn was enraged as he was. "Gawain, help me!" he yelled, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer without help. The others had since picked up their bows once more, trying to hold off the Saxons with arrows long enough for Dayn to be pulled back. Gawain ran forward, sliding into Caderyn and Dayn and immediately moving to help Caderyn catch hold of Dayn.

Dagonet ran forward as well, but with a different purpose in mind.

"Dag!" Bors yelled, as Dagonet waded into the torrent of arrows with his axe in hand.

"Cover them," Arthur yelled, watching in alarm as the Saxons marched closer and closer to the four knights who were now exposed on the ice.

With a roar, Dagonet brought his axe down with a powerful downswing, chopping at the ice with all of his strength. Ignoring the arrows soaring ever closer, he brought his axe back up for another blow, willing the ice to break. _The others just need a little more time, _he thought, sensing Caderyn and Gawain struggling to pull Dayn backwards toward the others. He completed the swing, feeling the ice beginning to give a little, but before he could rejoice in the idea, an arrow smashed into him. It gave him pause, but he knew he couldn't give up yet, despite the growing pain in his chest. With a pain-filled yell, he brought the axe down one last time, relieved when he heard a sharp crack as the ice began to yield. He allowed himself to fall as the ice split, the axe dropping from limp fingers.

Unable to stand idle, Arthur charged forward, heedless of the danger, as he ran for Dagonet. _Please, God, lend me the speed to save my knight,_ he prayed. Blistering cold water slid over Dagonet as he began to slip off the ice into the freezing water below.

Arthur reached him just as he fell into the lake, and pulled him out, groaning at the effort to heave the large, waterlogged knight back onto the ice. With a yell, Bors ran forward with a shield, terrified that his friend, his brother, was dead. Behind them, the others continued to shoot arrows as fast as they could, even as the lake began to exact its revenge on the unfortunate Saxons. Caderyn and Gawain managed to subdue Dayn, forcing him back behind the line of knights, and the two knights took up their bows once more, leaving Dayn lying on the ice behind them.

So caught up in his grief, Dayn was unaware of the actions around him. He could still sense the rage just under the surface of his sorrow, and deep down, he knew it would demand release before long. As though from far away, he saw the arrow sticking out of his leg, and with a detached expression, he jerked the arrow free without a sound. To his left, he could vaguely hear Bors yelling at Dagonet, but he ignored it, as he ignored everything else around him. A coldness as chilling as the water before him had invaded his soul, filling him up, numbing him to everything but the task at hand. Standing, he retrieved his bow and strung the arrow he'd just pulled from his leg, aiming at the Saxon who stared at them with hate-filled eyes as his men were swallowed by the lake. With a steady hand and a calculating eye, he released the arrow, watching in grim satisfaction as it hit his target.

The Saxons were completely routed at the lake, but Dayn knew it was far from over. Someone would pay dearly for this.

* * *

A/N: Okay, fans…here's the dilemma we now face. Does Dagonet live or does Dagonet die? At this point, I could go either way, but I thought I would give everyone the opportunity to decide. I'm not going to commit to going either way, but I'm interested in seeing what everyone thinks. Anyways, despite the ton of reading for my English classes, I managed to get this chapter out pretty quick, so I'm giving myself a pat on the back. I'll try to keep up this pace, but I make no promises. Oh, and Morrigán is a very confusing Celtic goddess, which sources attribute different things to; however, in this story, I'm using her as the goddess of divination and prophecy.

**MonDieu666**: Thanks so much for reviewing!!! If I engaged in happy dances, I would do one now, but since I lack any talent in that department, I'm refraining from that. I'm glad you like the names…I get rather attached to them myself. Anyways, thanks for the compliment, and I look forward to your next chapter.

**chiefhow: **Thanks for reviewing, chief. I feel like I can always count on you to send me a nice review. Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter…I'm trying to tie up lose ends on a lot of things. Niamh is about the only thing I really have to finish up, but I can't do that yet…right now, it's looking like I might hit that in either chapter 12 or chapter 13. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

**Camreyn:** As always, thanks for reviewing. As for your questions, here are some answers: I think Lancelot is quick to point out everyone's flaws, not just Dayn's…we just see it more with Dayn, because he's the main character. As to Arthur's decision, you'll just have to wait and see…you might find that the decision is taken out of Arthur's hands…And why doesn't Orainne wake Dayn? Because it's like every horror movie you've ever seen: you know something is wrong, but there's that small part of you that thinks you're imagining things…I should probably clear up the relationship between Lance and Dayn, because while they may appear to hate each other, it's really not that bad. They're like brothers—they would die for each other, but their personalities don't always mesh. You know? Did you get everything cleared up concerning Dagonet and Orainne…Dag blamed himself for Orainne getting hurt because she was hurt when she came to his aid…hope that clears up your questions. I usually read over each chapter with my roommate, so that I pick up on little mistakes, but she's been busy, so I haven't been proofreading like I should…I'll try to do better. Again, thanks so much for your reviews…I haven't gotten as many reviews lately, so having a really long one from you goes a long way in cheering me up.


	12. Chapter 12: A Lament for the Fallen

Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah…If you've made it this far, then obviously you know what I own and don't own.

Chapter 12: A Lament for the Fallen

Dayn looked down at Cei's lifeless body and felt pain tear through his soul. As he became aware of the warm blood streaming down, his leg suddenly buckled under his weight and he feel heavily to the ground. Dayn crawled closer to Cei's body, pulling it into his lap. He looked down into Cei's cold face, feeling a tightness in his throat. As much as he tried to suppress it, a sob escaped, releasing a deluge of emotion. Tears poured down his face, as he slowly rocked back and forth, Cei's body cradled in his arms.

A cacophony of noise assailed him, as the other knights were trying to help Dagonet. _Bastards,_ Dayn thought, with unreasonable anger as he cried. _They've forgotten Cei. No one cares that he's dead. _

"Cei, I'm sorry," he whispered. "It should have been me. Not you. My freedom was so far away…but yours, it was right there."

"Dayn." Arthur's voice intruded, and Dayn looked up to see his commander looking down at him with sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry about Cei."

"He shouldn't have been here, Arthur. He should have been free," Dayn said, his words choked by grief.

"I know," Arthur murmured. Dayn looked back down at Cei's still face, hardly able to believe that he would never hear Cei's voice again, or see him laugh with the others as they drank ale until the wee hours of the morning. His eyes were drawn back to the lake, watching with a steady gaze as Saxons continued to flounder in the icy water. _If only I hadn't run out of arrows,_ Dayn thought coldly, his eyes narrowing. _I'd make damn sure that no more of them escaped the lake. _

"Dayn, we need to take him now. We have to catch up to the caravan." Dayn said nothing, only continued to watch the stragglers who'd survived trying to struggle up out of the water. He felt Arthur and someone else—Aldric perhaps—slowly lifting Cei's body away from him, and with his arms now devoid of Cei's weight, Dayn was struck with a profound feeling of emptiness.

He felt empty, as though a cold darkness had seeped into his soul, leaving nothing behind but a shell of whom he once was.

Caderyn stood beside Lancelot, watching as Aldric and Gawain helped Arthur secure Cei's body to his horse. Tristan had ridden ahead to fetch Orainne, for she was the closest thing they had to a healer, and Dagonet certainly needed one. Bors sat with Dagonet now, his normally jovial disposition absent as he gazed upon his friend with worried eyes. Guenevere and Galahad were both helping Jols pick up the discarded weapons that were strewn about all over the ground. Caderyn and Lancelot merely looked on, both of them feeling helpless to do anything.

"I called him a fool," Lancelot said suddenly, turning to Caderyn with guilty eyes.

"You mean Cei?"

"Yes. I told him that everything would be fine. I berated him for his foolishness, and now he's dead," Lancelot said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Lance, none of us could have known what was to happen. You shouldn't blame yourself. Besides, you weren't the only one to tease him," Caderyn said, feeling a twinge of guilt himself.

"Dayn's girl…she knew that something was going to happen. I didn't listen when she tried to warn us. I told Cei he was foolish to heed her words. But it was I who was the fool."

"There was nothing we could have done to prevent his death. We are but mortals in an uncertain world, Lancelot—what more can we do? Life is a risky game of chance we play with the Goddess of Fortune, and at any time, we could lose. It's pointless to fight it."

"You sound like Arthur, with your talk of gods," Lancelot said disdainfully. "We're just supposed to live our lives without any control over our own destinies? I don't accept that, Caderyn—I won't! So you keep your goddess, and Arthur can keep his god—I want no part of it!" Caderyn watched Lancelot stalk away angrily, saddened by his friend's emotions. _It's hard for a man without faith_, he thought ruefully._ For without faith, how can one make sense of anything that happens in this world?_

"Caderyn!" Hearing Arthur call his name, he turned away from Lancelot, looking to his commander. "See to Dayn—he's hurt." _Hurt? Damn, how could I miss that? He was standing right beside me during the battle. _Shaking his head, he looked around for Dayn, not certain where the young knight might be. And then he saw him.

Dayn sat, unmoving, at the edge of the ice, staring blankly ahead, his eyes riveted on the scene before him. His bow lay by his side, his sword a considerable distance away, discarded where he'd dropped it. Caderyn walked over, picking up Dayn's sword along the way.

"Dayn. Dayn, let me see to your leg."

"It's nothing."

"You're losing your life's blood. You need to have it bandaged," Caderyn said, his brow wrinkling in concern. "Come now, Dayn."

"It pains me not. I'll see to it later."

"Dayn-"

"Not yet, Caderyn," Dayn said, his voice barren of all emotion. His eyes remained riveted on the lake, watching as the last vestiges of the Saxon force vainly tried to escape the icy clutches of the water.

"Why do you watch them?"

"Because I want to see them die. They killed Cei, and the life they stole must be repaid."

Caderyn sat down beside him, knowing instinctively that his friend was hurting inside, and that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He put his hand on Dayn's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I'm tired, Caderyn. Of all of it," Dayn murmured, closing his eyes as the lake fell silent and still, at peace once more. But it was a deceptive peace, for beneath those now placid waters, death remained. Dayn slowly felt his body began to slouch sideways, but he couldn't find the strength to fight it. Caderyn caught him, lowering him gently the rest of the way to the ground.

"Someone bring me some bandages," Caderyn yelled, leaving it to one of the others to do as he bid. Dayn blinked up at him for a moment, before he finally succumbed to the darkness that claimed him.

* * *

Struck with an odd sense of misgiving, Orainne paused in the middle of a conversation with Niamh, her eyes taking on a blank stare. 

"Orainne, what is it?" Niamh asked, concerned by the vacant look on Orainne's face. For a moment, Orainne didn't answer, and it seemed to Niamh that Orainne was somewhere far away. "Orainne?"

"I must go back," Orainne said suddenly, her eyes blazing into Niamh's earnestly.

"Go back? Orainne, you can't—it's dangerous! And besides, you've said it yourself—you're no warrior!"

"None of that matters, Niamh. I have to go back," she said, shouldering her way past Fulcinia and Lucan to the back of the wagon.

"But why?" Niamh asked, scrambling to follow her.

"I don't know. I just have this horrible feeling that something is wrong," Orainne murmured. "I shall return soon, Niamh." She slipped out of the slow-moving wagon before Niamh could argue further.

Borrowing a horse from one of the serfs, she hesitantly mounted, praying to Epona, the goddess of horses, to help her stay in the saddle. _Please, Epona, don't let me fall. I've never ridden alone before._ Holding the reins in clenched fists, she urged the horse forward, ignoring Niamh's voice calling her back.

Fear caused her to tremble as the horse began to gain speed. Though the creature had only set off at a brisk canter, Orainne feared that she wouldn't be able to control the beast. She had no idea what she would do when she reached the knights, nor did she know what she would find when she got there. She only knew that she had to get there.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she held on for dear life, leaving it to the horse to find his way.

"I pointed you in the right direction, and now you must do your part, my friend," she whispered to the horse, hoping desperately that he somehow understood her words.

"Orainne," a voice called, and she opened her eyes to see Tristan galloping toward her on his horse. Panic struck as she tried to stop her horse, only to realize that she didn't know how. Tristan, sensing her problem, rode up beside her and took the reins from her hands, pulling her horse to a stop.

"Dayn?" she asked, fearfully.

"No. Dagonet," Tristan replied. He decided not to mention that Dayn had been hurt…the wound wasn't serious, and he had no way of telling her anyhow. "Come." He held the reins out to her, but she shook her head.

"I ride not well," she said in halting Latin, hoping she said the right words. "I ride with you?" she asked fearfully. Nodding, he pulled her into the saddle behind him, and trusting her to hold on, took off at a swift gallop, pushing away the worry that gnawed at him. _Dagonet will be fine, now. Orainne will help him,_ he told himself firmly.

* * *

Tristan slid from the saddle, and caught Orainne, lifting her down swiftly. Bors met them, grabbing Orainne by the arm and dragging her to Dagonet's unconscious form. 

"You can help him, right?" Orainne wasn't sure of his words, but caught his meaning and knelt down beside the still knight. Feeling the chill of his skin, she glanced at his lips, alarmed at their purple hue.

Taking a sharp scythe-like dagger from a scabbard at Bors' waist, she began to cut at the tough leather of his tunic. They needed to get him out of the cold, wet clothing that clung to him. She struggled to pull at the clothing, unable to lift the shoulders of the large knight.

"Help me," she said, her voice at once taking on a tone of command she seldom used. Bors, Aldric, and Arthur immediately moved to remove the heavy leather tunic that comprised Dagonet's armor, careful not to jar the arrows that remained in his abdomen.

"This, give this," Orainne said tugging on the cloak that Bors wore over his shoulders. "We warm him," she said, pulling her own cloak from her shoulders to cover the knight. Taking Bors' offered cloak, as well as Gawain's, she began to wrap Dagonet in the warm cloaks, hoping that they would counter the wet clothes that he still wore. It wouldn't be safe to remove all of his clothing in the open, and she suspected that the cold was actually helping to stop blood loss.

"We must get him back to the caravan, so he may be warmed properly, and I can see to the arrows." Right after she said it, she realized that none of them understood her. She glanced around for Dayn, only then realizing that he was not standing there with the others. "Dayn?" she called out.

"He's hurt, Orainne," Galahad said with a helpless shrug. Her face crumpled as she translated his words. "Not bad, though," Galahad said quickly. Caderyn and Lancelot carried Dayn over, holding him up between them, and as worried as Orainne was, she knew they had no time to tarry. She stood and went to stand before them, slapping Dayn's face lightly.

"Dayn, wake up," she said forcefully. He rolled his head groggily, and blinked up at her, confused to see her standing there. "Dayn, you must translate for me," she said, holding his face between her hands. "Do you understand? You must—for Dagonet." He nodded, and she stepped back, turning to the others. She repeated her earlier order, and Dayn slowly passed her words on in Latin. The knights moved quickly to comply, with Arthur and Aldric helping Bors to get Dagonet on Bors' horse. Bors mounted behind Dagonet, to hold him upright, and Tristan took Orainne again. Caderyn was placed in charge of Dayn, and Lancelot and Gawain helped get Dayn into Caderyn's saddle. With Arthur holding the reins of Cei's horse, they thundered away from the lake, leaving the now placid water behind them.

Hearing hoofbeats, Niamh glanced up, hoping to see some sign of Orainne or the knights. They rode up, and yells went up as the serfs immediately went to aid the injured. Niamh's eyes sought out Tristan, and she felt instant relief pour through her as she caught sight of him among the knights.

She ran forward, eager to see for herself that he wasn't injured, but before she could reach him, Arthur grabbed her arm.

"Niamh, we need you to translate Orainne's words for us," he said, pulling her toward the wagon where they were taking Dagonet.

"But…why can't Dayn…" she started, but Arthur cut her off.

"Dayn was injured. He's unconscious again, so we need you." Nodding, she followed Arthur to the wagon where Orainne was anxiously waiting for the knights to get Dagonet settled in the wagon.

_Goddess, help us, it's going to be a long day,_ she prayed.

* * *

Hours later, Orainne leaned back wearily, assured that Dagonet would survive. She had removed the arrows and applied poultices to the wounds. After bandaging him, she ordered him to be wrapped in blankets. Lucan looked on worriedly, dried tears on his face, and Orainne placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. 

As she stepped out of the wagon, she stumbled, and a firm hand reached out and steadied her. She looked up to give her thanks only to step back in fear as she realized that it was Lancelot.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Lancelot said, but not understanding, Orainne turned and hurried away. Lancelot watched her rush from him, and he sighed before climbing into the wagon to check on Dagonet.

Orainne began to look for Dayn, unsure where he'd been taken. She had pushed away her fear earlier, but now that Dagonet was out of danger, her fear for Dayn returned. Spotting Caderyn getting ready to climb back into his saddle, she ran to him, calling out his name.

"Caderyn! Dayn…where?" With a soft smile, Caderyn took her elbow and led her to another wagon, helping her inside so she could see that Dayn was resting comfortably. He started to walk away when he heard Orainne call his name again.

"He is…not," Orainne said, groping rather unsuccessfully for the words she needed. Caderyn's eyes filled with confusion and he stepped back to the wagon and peeked inside. The pallet where he himself had laid Dayn down was now empty.

"Oh, shit," Caderyn muttered. He immediately began to look for Dayn in the immediate vicinity of the wagon, but there was no sign of him. Spotting Arthur crossing the camp, he called out, garnering Arthur's attention. Caderyn hurried toward him, Orainne at his heels.

"What is it, Caderyn?" Arthur asked wearily.

"Dayn's missing," Caderyn said quietly. Arthur sighed, feeling as though a heavy weight were pressing down on his shoulders. "I've looked around, but there's no trace of him, Arthur."

"Gather up the others. We have to find him," Arthur said, shaking his head ruefully. _There's no telling what he'll do if left to his own devices._ Caderyn returned with the others in moments, and Arthur looked at each of them intently, his concern obvious.

"Dayn is no longer in the camp, and we need to find him. I know you're all tired, but I fear what Dayn may do if left alone."

"He was upset," Caderyn said, looking at each of the knights as the meaning of his words sank in. Nothing good could come of Dayn being upset and armed.

"All the more reason to find him quickly. I don't have to tell you how important it is that he be found."

It was Gawain and Lancelot who found Dayn. Dayn sat against a tree a considerable distance from the camp, his eyes bloodshot and fatigued. Lancelot held back as Gawain stepped forward, thinking it wiser not to approach Dayn in an unknown state-of-mind.

"Dayn, everyone's looking for you," Gawain said gently.

"You know…Cei couldn't wait to go home," Dayn said gently, as though Gawain hadn't spoken. "He was going to take over his father's herd when he got home." Dayn gave a bitter laugh. "Can you imagine it? Cei as a damn shepherd. I used to give him a hard time about it…but deep down, I envied him. He was going to leave this life behind and never look back. Could you do that?" For the first time, he looked up at Gawain, his eyes burning into Gawain's with intensity. Gawain noticed the sweat on Dayn's brow as his body fought fever, worried now that Dayn might not be quite lucid.

Lancelot looked impatiently at the two before turning his back on them to stare at the snow that fell from the sky. He didn't want to remain any longer, listening to them talk about Cei. _It's too much. First, the Romans betray us, then the Woads are fighting with us rather than against us, and now Cei. _It felt to Lancelot as though the very world that he had come to know was beginning to fray, and nothing was what it once was. Guilt over his last words to Cei warred with his confusion, and the inner turmoil allowed him no peace.

"You need rest, Dayn," Lancelot heard Gawain say. "Come back with us to camp."

"Answer me," Dayn demanded, his voice tight from restrained emotion. With a sigh, Gawain sat down beside him, ignoring the cold chill of the snow on the ground.

"I don't know, Dayn. This is the only life I know…"

"I will lead no other life than this one," Dayn murmured. He glanced down at something he held in his hands, and Gawain looked down to see what held his attention. It was an amulet in the shape of a bear.

"Is that Cei's?" he asked Dayn, recognizing it for the simple design that Cei had worn around his neck, similar to the one Lancelot wore.

"Yes. Cei wore it for luck," Dayn replied. With an angry smirk, he closed his fingers around the amulet. "It was worthless, for it helped him not when he needed it most." Lifting his arm, he hurled the small pendant into the forest, furious that it had proved to be nothing more than a mere trinket.

"Dayn, you're tired. Come on now," Gawain said in a coaxing tone. "Orainne's waiting for you."

"Cei shouldn't have died, Gawain," he said, looking up at Gawain with confused eyes. "It was the damn Romans—it's all their fault," he yelled suddenly. The sudden outburst seemed to sap the energy from him, and he leaned back wearily against the tree, closing his eyes. "I'm tired, Gawain."

Gawain watched as Dayn's breathing slowed and his head dropped forward before calling out to Lancelot.

"Come on, Lance, I need your help to get him back." Lancelot trudged forward through the snow, helping Gawain get Dayn up. As they began the long trek back to the camp, Lancelot glanced back.

"Wait, Gawain." Leaving Gawain to support Dayn alone, he hurried back, searching the ground frantically. Finally, he spotted what he sought, and he knelt in the snow, picking up Cei's amulet. Brushing the snow off of it, he slipped it over his neck, and hurried back to Gawain. Their eyes met for a moment, and for a second, Lancelot thought Gawain would say something. But he didn't, and without another word the knights set off for camp, Dayn between them.

* * *

It was a sober caravan that arrived at Hadrian's Wall two days later. Niamh shrank back against Tristan, fear mounting as they returned to the garrison. Tristan tightened his arms around her, feeling her trembling against him. 

"You have nothing to fear," he told her softly. _I'll take care of everything_.

"But he'll see me return. I know he will," she said fearfully.

"Perhaps. I'll see to it." Niamh fell silent, and Tristan pulled her closer to him, wanting to reassure her. He couldn't say what it was about Niamh that pulled him to her, but in a short time, she had wormed her way into his heart and with a start, he realized that he wanted her with him. But first, he had something to take care of, he thought with a grim smile.

Dayn rode his horse with Orainne behind him, and it was hard to say who was supporting who in the saddle. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he felt weariness all the way to his bones. The pain in his leg had ceased to a dull throbbing which he easily ignored.

As they rode through the gates, the happy shrieks of Bors' children seemed harsh to Dayn. They reined their horses in when they reached the courtyard, and Dayn slowly dismounted, reaching up to help Orainne. She looked at him with worried eyes, noting the paleness of his face and the trembling of his body.

"Ah! Good! Christ be praised!" At the sound of the Bishop's voice, Dayn's eyes narrowed in hatred. "Against all the odds Satan could possi– Alecto! Let me see you! You have triumphed! Young Alecto! Let me see you! You are here!" Dayn glared at the pompous man, angry that he could be so happy when Cei was dead.

The Bishop looked at the knights, not noticing that one of their number was missing. "Great Knights. You are free now! Give me the papers," he called out, motioning for his men to bring forward the pardons. "Come, come! Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire! Take it, Arthur." The knights held back, no one moving as the Bishop moved toward them. Arthur was the first to move, approaching the Bishop with barely-concealed anger.

"Bishop Germanius. _Friend_ of my father." Dayn watched Arthur walk away, before slowly turning his eyes back to see Lancelot take the papers from the Bishop's gold-inlaid box. As Lancelot began to pass the papers out to each knight, Dayn stepped back, slowly retreating into the shadows with Orainne beside him.

"You are free. You can go!" the Bishop exclaimed, expecting some sort of joyful response. But their freedom was overshadowed by Cei's death, and for the knights, there could be no happiness at the loss of one of their own.

"We don't need your permission to go, Roman," Caderyn said. Caderyn and Aldric moved to fetch Cei's body from the saddle, while Bors went to the wagon with Galahad to help Dagonet. As Niamh ran to help, Tristan stepped forward to admire the Bishop's ornate box. Orainne smiled as she watched Tristan reach out and take the box, tucking it under his arm as he went to catch up with Niamh.

From his place in the shadows, Dayn watched the Bishop smiling as he turned back to Alecto, who merely looked at him with thinly veiled disdain.

And somewhere in the cold region of his soul, a fire began to burn, smoldering with an all-consuming lust for vengeance. _Not long now,_ he thought, darkly. "Soon," he whispered to himself, his eyes aflame as he watched the Bishop smile and laugh. _Smile now, for you won't smile for long.

* * *

_


	13. Chapter 13: The Fall of Darkness

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

A/N: In case anyone doesn't know, the Woads are called such because of the blue paint they wear—called woad. I just wanted to clear that up because Dayn makes mention of it. Also, please note, there is a scene in this chapter that is suggestive of rape-most of the action is not really overt, but if you're squeamish about reading that sort of thing, you might want to consider skimming over it.

Oh, and by the way, this chapter is a bit harder to follow then usual-just keep in mind that the scenes in this are happening simultaneously...I think you'll figure it out. If not, let me know.

I don't usually dedicate chapters, but this chapter goes out to everyone who has expressed more interest in Niamh, because a sizeable portion of this chapter concerns her.

Chapter 13: The Fall of Darkness

Niamh hadn't been able to stop trembling since they'd arrived, terrified that at any moment, the Roman captain would come for her. She stayed close to Tristan and used Caderyn as a shield, hoping that his muscular form would hide her from seeking eyes.

Tugging nervously on a strand of her hair, she followed behind Tristan and the others as they trekked up the hill to lay Cei to rest.

It was a melancholy air that wrapped itself around the remaining knights as they prepared to bury one of their own, a task that had become all too familiar as the years had passed. Except for Dagonet, who was being tended to by a healer back at the garrison, all of the knights were in attendance, plus Jols, Orainne, and Niamh.

Dayn watched with a cold heart as Arthur pounded Cei's sword into the ground by the burial mound, his feelings carefully locked away behind expressionless eyes. Orainne stood at his side, her fingers locked in his icy hands.

No one spoke as Bors stepped forward with a flagon of ale and held it out to Arthur. Without a word, Arthur accepted the proffered flagon from Bors' outstretched hands. He gazed around at each of the knights, looking at them intently as he held the flagon up.

"Today, we salute our fallen comrade, and with this, we honor him." Arthur took a swallow of the ale and then with a deep sigh, poured a bit on the ground. He passed the flagon on to Lancelot, who accepted it silently. Arthur looked once more at the mound from which Cei's sword rested, nodding respectfully before he turned and walked back down the hill.

Lancelot took a long swig of the ale before pouring some over the earth as a final offering to Cei. Passing the flagon on to Gawain, he followed Arthur, his heart heavy as he fingered the amulet that he still wore around his neck.

The gesture was repeated by each of the knights as they said a final goodbye to Cei, and the mood was one of poignant sorrow, as they remembered all of the knights who had gone before them, of friends lost, never to return. Most of the knights followed in Arthur and Lancelot's wake, until only Caderyn, Tristan, and Dayn remained. Niamh watched, her heart aching for the loss that she could see in their eyes.

Dayn was the last to take the flagon, and he took a swig before he poured the remaining ale on the burial mound. He let the empty flagon drop from his fingers, and he felt a distant sense of satisfaction when it shattered against the ground. He stared down at the pieces, silently vowing to avenge Cei's death.

"I'm sorry for your friend, Dayn," Orainne said softly, leaning close to him. Putting his arm around her, he pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper close to her ear.

"Don't be. They're going to pay."

"What are you planning?" she murmured, looking up at him with questioning eyes. Dayn was about to respond when he caught sight of Niamh's eyes on him, gazing at him with a combination of worry and suspicion.

"I can't tell you here. Later. I need you to paint me tonight," he said, thinking of the intricate blue designs that would soon cover his exposed skin.

"I'll get the woad and return to you soon," she said with a nod. With a kiss to his cheek, she slipped away from him and slowly melted back into the shadows and mist of the forest. Niamh watched them before leaning into Tristan, whose eyes were searching the skies for his hawk.

"Tristan, I think you should watch Dayn. I have a terrible feeling that he's planning something dangerous."

Considering that he had plans of his own, Tristan wasn't too inclined to interfere with Dayn's business. But he couldn't tell Niamh that. _Whatever Dayn has planned, it's sure to be a distraction that I can use to my advantage. _

"Worry not for Dayn," he said softly. He looked down once more, bidding one last farewell to Cei before he turned to walk back to the garrison. Niamh followed after him, afraid of being left behind and having to return to the garrison alone. Tristan heard her behind him right before her hand slipped into his. He tensed for a moment before he slowly relaxed, having started to adapt to Niamh's displays of affection.

As they neared the garrison, Niamh began to tremble, her hand becoming icy in Tristan's grip. His hand tightened around hers as he tried to comfort her in the only way he really knew. She tried to give him a smile, but she knew it wasn't very convincing.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen now that they were back. She had taken to sleeping at Tristan's side, safe and secure in the knowledge that he was there beside her. But now that they were back, she felt as though she were drifting in a sea of doubt. _What if Tristan wants me to leave? What will I do then? _Fear gnawed at her, as she wondered what she was supposed to do, and unsure of how to ask.

As though he sensed her thoughts, Tristan began to speak, his eyes never leaving the path before them. "I told Jols to have a cot brought to my room. It's yours for as long as you wish."

"You did that for me?" she asked, touched by his concern for her. He'd never really shown express concern for her, or anyone for that matter, and she felt a warmth in her heart when she thought of how he was showing that concern for her.

Tristan didn't respond, settling for a simple nod instead. And Niamh expected nothing more. She smiled, her nervousness fading in light of the knowledge that Tristan cared about her. Even if he only cared a little, it was enough for her.

* * *

Dusk was falling and inside the tavern, most of the knights were well on the way to being completely inebriated. Caderyn held Hummingbird on his lap as he taught her the rules to a new game he'd learned from a passing traveler. Gawain was well into a lewd song about a dancing girl, and Galahad was laughing drunkenly at the words, thoroughly enjoying the song despite how badly Gawain sang it.Niamh winced, thinking that the flagon of ale on the table was looking more and more appetizing with every line Gawain sang. Bors had Gilly on his lap, and Gilly was begging him rather unsuccessfully for a sword of his own. Lancelot's attention, as usual, was on the tavern wench who sat in his lap. Aldric was speaking quietly with a few Greeks who were traveling through Britain, and Niamh wondered if Aldric harbored a secret desire to travel to distant lands. Tristan seemed oblivious to the goings-on around him, his thoughts turned inward, and Niamh wondered what so held his attention. Glancing around, she saw no sign of Dayn or Orainne, for neither one of them had been seen since leaving the hill. 

Finally, she could take no more of Gawain's off-key singing, and she stood, picking up a small cup of wine.

"I'm going to see if Dagonet wants company," she told Tristan. "I'll be back shortly."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, his discerning gaze coolly examining her face for signs of worry.

"No, I won't be long," she said, kissing him on the cheek before leaving. There had been no trace of the Roman captain, and she was feeling quite confident that he would bother her no more. _He must fear Tristan, now_, she thought comfortingly.

Reaching Dagonet's room, she slowly opened the door, peeking inside. Dagonet was lying in bed, propped up with pillows and sleeping comfortably. Not wanting to disturb him, she tiptoed inside and set the wine on the table by his bedside. Hearing a slight rustling in the corner, she turned to see Lucan asleep on a pallet in the corner. She smiled and quietly walked over, picking up a blanket from the foot of Dagonet's bed. She gently draped it over the sleeping boy, tucking it around his shoulders and smoothing his hair back from his forehead. She gazed at the two of them one last time before she left, still smiling.

She carefully closed the door behind her, and she had just turned to go back to the tavern when she was viciously grabbed from behind and a hand came up to cover her mouth.

* * *

After watching Niamh leave, Tristan stood and sought out Vanora who was busy refilling cups and flagons with ale or wine. 

"Vanora." She turned with an exasperated look, thinking he was just one more drunken customer wanting another drink.

"Oh, Tristan, it's you," she said with surprise, for it was very infrequently that Tristan approached her. "What is it? Do you need another drink?"

"No. I have to leave for a time. When Niamh returns from seeing Dagonet, tell her to remain here until I come back.

"And where will you be?"

"Never mind that. I shouldn't be long."

"Very well then," Vanora said. Her gaze suddenly shot past him, and her eyes widened in alarm. "NUMBER NINE, you get down off that table right now!" she yelled across the room. She charged past Tristan, hurrying to reach the five-year-old who was standing on a table with his hand out to help Number Ten up as well. Tristan watched the chaos for a moment more before he slipped outside and headed for the stables. Stable boys knew everything.

When he reached the stables, the stable boys were rough-housing in the hay. Catching sight of him, the oldest boy shoved the others off and came to his feet, desperately trying to straighten his tunic into some semblance of order.

"Nice try, boy, but the hay in your hair ruins the effect," Tristan said in a rare burst of mirth. The boy blushed a bright shade of read as the younger boys giggled, and he ran his hand through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt at shaking the hay out of it.

"Can I help you with something, sir?"

"I need information."

"Information, sir?"

"Yes. I need to know if you saw a man taking a woman from the garrison about a week ago."

"Well, sir," the boy began with a sheepish smile, "an awful lot of men come through here with women. Sir."

"This woman wasn't going by choice. It would have been a Roman man, a captain."

"I saw him," one of the younger boys said, stepping forward with the confidence of youth. "He looked real mean, Dathan," he said, addressing the oldest boy. "He took that pretty lady, and she looked real scared."

"And you said nothing?" Tristan asked the boy, his hard gaze boring into him.

"He's a Roman," the boy said with a helpless shrug. Tristan could not fault the child, for none of the Britons were capable of standing up against the Romans, especially not a small child. "I'm sorry," the boy said, looking dejectedly at the floor.

"Think no more on it," Tristan replied. "I'm going to take care of the matter myself."

"Be careful, sir—he's got mean eyes, that one," the younger one said quickly. Tristan turned his own gaze on the boy, letting him see the chill of death come into his eyes. The boy's eyes widened and he stepped back in fear and awe.

"Is—is that all, sir?" the oldest boy—Dathan—stammered hesitantly. Tristan nodded and turned to leave, because he had what he'd come for: proof that the man he'd suspected was the one who had harmed Niamh.

Not wanting to scare Niamh by leaving her alone for too long, he headed back to the tavern. _Caderyn had best be sober enough to look after Niamh while I handle our dear Captain. Otherwise, we're going to have words. _But when he entered the tavern, Niamh was nowhere to be seen. Grabbing Vanora by the arm as she passed by, he spun her around and grasped her by the shoulders.

"Where's Niamh?"

"Oh honestly, Tristan, must you always be so dire?" she asked impatiently, shrugging out of his grasp. "She hasn't returned, yet. Now, if that's all, I've got drinks to refill," she said, moving past him. A dark look came into Tristan's eyes as he watched her walk away. _Niamh should have returned by now. She wouldn't have tarried. _So the question remained—where was Niamh?

* * *

"Did you really think you could escape me, bitch?" The familiar voice sent icy chills down her spine, and her heart pounded. She struggled in his grip, but she knew well enough that her strength was no match for the captain's. He dragged her backwards, pulling her into a darkened alley between the barracks and the Wall, and fear filled Niamh as she desperately sought to escape him. 

Swinging her around, he backhanded her and knocked her to the ground. _Gods, please no,_ she prayed as the world spun in dizzy circles around her. The Roman straddled her, grabbing at the hem of her dress as his malicious gaze promised pain. Niamh closed her eyes, sobbing, as she waited for the blows he was sure to rain down on her. But nothing happened. She opened her eyes to see the captain frozen, a knife at his throat. Niamh looked past him to see who held the knife, and there in the shadows, a small figure stood.

"Run, Niamh," Orainne said, holding the dagger firmly against the captain's throat. With a choked sob, Niamh scrambled out from under him, pushing her dress down with shaking hands. The captain remained still, fully aware that the knife at his throat was held in steady hands. "Go now, Niamh," Orainne murmured, her eyes never wavering from the Roman.

"But…I can't leave you here, Orainne," Niamh cried, tears rolling down her face, her body trembling.

"You don't need to worry for me," she replied, her voice sounding oddly like Dayn's—cold and emotionless.

"But, what if he catches you?" Niamh asked fearfully.

"He won't. Now go!" With a last worried look, Niamh turned and ran. As soon as she was out of sight, Orainne slid the knife ever so carefully along the captain's throat, seeing the sweat trickle down his face as he agonized over whether she was going to kill him. Bringing the knife up to his face, she allowed the blade to slice his cheek before she backed away, melting once more into the shadows.

The captain stood, his legs trembling, turning from left to right as he vainly sought who had threatened him. But there was no one there. _That's alright,_ the captain thought with narrowed eyes, _I know her name. Orainne. _

* * *

"Hey, Tristan, where's Niamh?" Caderyn asked, coming up beside Tristan with Hummingbird on his shoulders. "I thought you wanted me to keep an eye on her for you. And don't tell me you changed your mind, because I stayed sober just so I could watch her like you asked me to." 

"She went to check on Dag. Hasn't come back yet. It's been awhile."

"Are you going to go look for her?"

"Yes," Tristan said. It wasn't like him to worry, but he couldn't help but fear that something may have happened to Niamh.

"I'll come with you," Caderyn replied with a worried look of his own. He reached up and plucked Hummingbird from his shoulders, setting her down in a chair where she quickly popped back up to stand in the seat of the chair.

"Caderyn, I wanna come look for Niamh too," she said. "I'm a good finder! I play Hide-n-Seek with Number 5, and Number 6, and Gilly all the time, and I always find them!"

"Not this time, Hummingbird. You stay here." Caderyn followed Tristan out of the tavern before Hummingbird could argue with him.

They started at Dagonet's room, verifying that Niamh was not inside before they spread out from there. Tristan picked up tracks in the dirt, noting the smudging of the footprints that signified that at least one person had been dragged away from the door. He gave Caderyn the news in a grim voice, feeling worry gnaw at his gut.

"We should split up, cover more ground," he told Caderyn. "I'll go east, you go west. We meet up at the tavern afterward." With a nod, Caderyn went left, leaving Tristan to go right. After what seemed like an eternity, Tristan was no closer to finding Niamh than he was before. Stopping at a wall, he braced himself against it, and lowered his head wearily. He couldn't give up, he knew, and he wouldn't. He was straightening when he felt a tug on his hand. He looked down to see Hummingbird staring up at him with a smile on her face.

"I'll help you look for Niamh, Tristan. I know all the good hiding spots!" Tristan looked down at her with suspicious eyes.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Not really," she answered, hedging a bit as she took his hand and set off at a brisk pace, which due to the shortness of her legs, wasn't all that brisk. "Let's go this way," she said, pulling him towards the barracks.

"I don't think she'd be there," Tristan told the precocious little girl. "There's nothing that way but barracks."

"Well, have you already looked there?" she asked him plaintively.

"No."

"Then how do you know she's not there?" Tristan didn't have an answer for her, which caused him mild irritation. She skipped along as they walked through the barracks, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. It was all a game to her, but Tristan knew all too well that this was no game.

"Which one's your room, Tristan?" she asked as they walked along the corridor of rooms.

He pointed to the door of his room, and she broke away from him, charging at full speed for his room. "I want to see!" She shoved open his door and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. Disarmed by her sudden stop, Tristan hurried forward, and she looked at him with a worried face. "I found her," she whispered as he came up beside her.

* * *

Orainne hurried to the courtyard of the garrison, Dayn's dagger still clutched tightly in her fist, the woad paint in a small pouch at her side. She stayed in the shadows, afraid of being approached despite the dagger she carried. Her hands shook as she recalled what it felt like to have the knife at the Roman's throat. _How Dayn does it, I do not know. I almost had to kill a man, and I shake with fear. Dayn kills all the time, and it bothers him not. _She didn't understand her fear, but she knew that she didn't want to go through it again. _I hope Niamh found safety. _She wanted to look for Niamh, but time was pressing. Soon, though. She would have killed him for Niamh's sake, if he'd tried to go after her again, but she was glad the task had not fallen to her. _Tristan will take care of it, _she thought, _as soon as I tell him. For I'm sure Niamh will not speak of it. _

As she approached the pillars that lined the courtyard, a hand shot out of the darkness, grabbing her wrist in a firm grip.

"You're late," Dayn said as he pulled her into the shadows. Orainne's heart skipped a beat until she recognized the voice of her lover.

"I'm sorry. There was trouble," she said softly. Dayn saw her trembling, and looking closer, he noticed the dagger in her hand, a sliver of blood still on the blade.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, taking the dagger from her shaking hand with a worried look.

"No, I'm alright…It's not my blood," she whispered. Her own actions had frightened her, and she found it difficult to look him in the eye. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled not to let Dayn see.

"What happened?" He swiped the flat of the blade against the side of his leg, wiping the blood on his pants, as he awaited her answer.

"Niamh. She was attacked by a Roman man. I was so afraid, but I couldn't leave her. I used the dagger you gave me so that she had time to run."

"Did you kill him?" Dayn asked gently, taking her hand in his own.

"No…I just cut his cheek, that's all. Only so that Tristan would know which man to pursue. But, it frightened me," she said in a shaky voice.

"It's alright," he said pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and hugged her comfortingly. "You did well, Orainne." She sniffled once more before she pulled away.

"I brought the woad, Dayn. It's time." Dayn nodded, and he grasped her hand to lead her to his room. Darkness had fallen, and vengeance would wait no longer.

Orainne made quick work of painting Dayn's face, neck, and hands—the only exposed parts of his body—with the blue swirls and designs that the Woads were known for. Orainne smiled in admiration at the way the woad blended with the dark dragon tattoo that extended down from his face and neck.

Dayn pulled a cloak on over his shoulders, lifting the cowl up to obscure his features. It wouldn't do to have someone notice him with Woad designs all over his face. He secured his sword in the scabbard at his back before turning to take Orainne's hand once more.

"You should return to the village, Orainne. I don't want you here if something should go wrong."

"Not yet," she said firmly. "I need to know that Niamh is alright, first." He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she cut him off. "No, Dayn. Niamh is my friend, and I would know what happened to her before I leave."

"Very well," Dayn grumbled. "Come. Perhaps Caderyn will help you look for her while I take care of the task before me."

* * *

Niamh huddled in the corner of the room, sobbing, and Tristan was at a complete loss, having no idea how to comfort a crying female. 

"You go make her feel better, Tristan, and I'll go tell Caderyn that we found her," Hummingbird said in a commanding tone. She ran out before Tristan could stop her, and he spared no worry for her, knowing that the six-year-old was quite adept at moving in and out of the garrison without anyone the wiser.

He slowly walked forward until he reached Niamh, and he knelt down, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shied away from him, as though she didn't recognize him, and he softly said her name. She looked up at him with swollen eyes, her face streaked with tears, her bruised cheek turning blue. She slowly went into his arms, trembling as he held her. She sobbed into his tunic, her fingers clenching the fabric tightly, and Tristan felt a wave of helplessness come over him. And he hated it.

"I thought he was going to leave me alone," she cried. "I should have let you come with me!" He slowly rocked her in his arms, sitting against the wall with her cradled against his side.

"Was it the captain?" She nodded, her hand coming up to cover the bruise on her cheek.

"I thought so. I'm going to take care of it, alright? You have nothing to worry about. I'll keep you safe." He picked her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest as he walked to the bed and laid her down gently. He sat beside her, smoothing her hair away from her face and wiping the tears from her eyes.

* * *

Dayn was leading Orainne back toward the tavern in an attempt to find Caderyn when he suddenly saw him being pulled across the yard by Hummingbird. 

"Caderyn," he called out. Caderyn slowed to a halt to wait for Dayn and Orainne to catch up, ignoring Hummingbird pulling on him. Catching a glimpse of the blue paint on Dayn's face, he raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting.

"Not now, Dayn," Hummingbird said impatiently, pushing Caderyn from behind in a vain attempt to get the large knight moving. "We've gotta get to Niamh."

"Niamh?" Orainne asked excitedly.

"Orainne is worried about her," Dayn explained. "Do you know where she is, Hummingbird?"

"Of course I do," the little girl said, puffing her chest up proudly. "Now, come on!"

"NUMBER EIGHT!" The voice bellowed out, coming from the direction of the tavern and Hummingbird jerked to a stop, wincing at the sound of her father's voice.

"WHAT!" she yelled back.

"Your mother wants you in bed now!"

"I'm busy, Papa! Tell her I'll be home in a bit!"

"Now, girl! Don't make me come get you, Eight!" Hummingbird's shoulders slumped and she looked at them unhappily. "Niamh is in Tristan's room. I gotta go home now." Dayn suppressed a smile as he watched the little girl trudge back to the tavern where Bors waited before he turned to Caderyn.

"Can you take Orainne with you, Cade?"

"Sure. But where will you be?"

"It's best if you don't know. If someone should ask, you can honestly say you know nothing," Dayn replied. Caderyn gazed at him for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether to pursue the issue.

"Very well, Dayn," he agreed finally, not looking too happy about it, but knowing that Dayn was right. "May the gods go with you, and guard you on your way." Dayn turned to Orainne, taking her by the shoulders to stare in her eyes.

"Caderyn is going to take you to Niamh," he told her. "I'll try to come for you, but if things get out of hand, I want you to return to the village without me, and I'll try to catch up later. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. Be careful, Dayn," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. With one last lingering smile, she took Caderyn's arm and allowed him to lead the way to Tristan's room where Niamh waited. Dayn watched them until they were out of sight, his own smile fading as an icy rage welled up inside him. It was time.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer…if you read my URL, you already know. But I realized that there was simply too much going on in this chapter, so I just decided it would be better to break it up a bit. Stay tuned for the action—things are definitely going to heat up in the next chapter. Keep reviewing for me! 

**chiefhow: **Yeah, you really nailed the difference between Tristan and Dayn—definitely different in the temperament department. Hope you liked the tribute to Cei here. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope to hear what you think of this chapter.

**Camreyn:** The thing about Lancelot taking Cei's amulet…I'm not so sure it was guilt. I saw it more as him hanging on to Cei. Everything is so confusing for him right now, and he wants so badly to believe in something, to hang on to a time when things were simpler. I don't know…I wrote it, I know, but it's such a complicated sort of emotion to explain. But if you want to look at it as guilt, that's fine. Lance will be hanging on to the amulet for a long time…I see him wearing it with his own for the majority of his life. Anyways, thanks for the review. Can't wait to hear back from you!

**Abeldina:** Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm glad you came back to it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too. Keep reviewing for me!

**Aelia O'Hession:** I'm glad you read the story and enjoyed it! It was partly thanks to you that I cut this chapter up…it was getting busy, and I worried that it might start to get confusing if I had so much going on in this chapter. Yeah, I seriously considered letting Dagonet die in the lake scene, and that was the plan for a long time, but when it came down to doing it, I found that I had gotten way too attached to him to kill him off. Oh, and I'll keep you in mind if I need help with those Celtic deities. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you'll review this chapter as well!

**ModestySparrow9:** It was so great to hear from you again! I hope you enjoyed the Tristan scenes in this chapter. I tried to give him and Niamh a little more "air time" so to speak. Most of the next chapter will center around Dayn again, but Tristan does have that little matter of the captain to tend to, so he'll be getting some attention as well. Oh, and I emailed you…hope you got it…I'll get back with you soon!


	14. Chapter 14: Fiend of Darkness, Fiend of ...

Disclaimer: Same as before. See previous chapters.

A/N: Ok, here it is, everyone! The much awaited chapter…heck, this is my story and even I've been looking forward to it. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 14: Fiend of Darkness, Fiend of Fire

Hummingbird hurried back to the tavern, seeing her father standing outside the door, his ale in hand, as he waited for her to reach him.

"Papa, can't I stay out a little longer?" she asked, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

"No, your mother won't be having it, Eight."

"But, I need to make sure that Niamh's okay, and that Tristan is gonna take care of her."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking down into Hummingbird's earnest face in confusion.

"Niamh left the tavern to see Uncle Dag, and that was hours ago, but there was trouble and she didn't come back! I helped Tristan find her though, and I found Caderyn too, because he was helping Tristan look for her too! Somebody hurt Niamh, because she looked all sad and her face was all puffy! Tristan looked mad, too, and if you ask me," she said in all seriousness, "I think Tristan is really mad about it, and whoever hurt Niamh is in big trouble. Oh, and we saw Dayn and his girl—what's her name, again?" She scarcely paused for breath before continuing, deciding that the name wasn't overly important to her story. "Dayn sure was in a hurry, Papa, and he had some funny looking blue stuff all over his face."

"Blue stuff? You mean woad?" Bors asked her, dread growing in his stomach.

"Yeah, that's what it was!"

Bors frowned as worry came over him. _Woad, eh? That can't be good_, he thought._ Dayn must be up to something, and not a damn one of us even suspected. I better get the others—there's sure to be trouble. Someone's going to die tonight, and no doubt Dayn will be at the center of it. And if Tristan gets involved…_

"Damn," he muttered, turning to go back inside the tavern. It was time to rouse the others. Paying scant attention to Hummingbird who followed at his heels as he went inside, he gulped down the last of his ale. It was going to be a long night.

"Boys," he called, "we're gonna have trouble. We gotta go!" Galahad and Gawain looked up from their table, still sober enough to respond when Bors called. Aldric stood up from his place in the corner, looking concerned.

"What is it, Bors?" Aldric asked, leaving his ale behind as he came closer.

"Dayn's up to something. What else? But Eight tells me that Niamh was hurt, and it sounds to me like Tristan may soon be in it as well. Heads are going to roll tonight, boys, and we've got to take care that no one gets caught."

"We need to find Lancelot." Gawain said, coming to his feet with a weary sigh. "We're probably going to need him. Has anyone seen him?" He hoped that Lancelot, wherever he was, was sober enough to do some good.

"I don't think anyone's seen him since he took off," Galahad answered. "He was pretty upset when Arthur told him he was staying here. Can't say that I blame him though, what with the Saxons practically a handbreadth away—it's suicide to stay here."

"Gawain's right," Aldric said, rubbing his jaw. "We've got to find him."

"I can help," Hummingbird piped up, jumping up and down to catch the knights' attention. Galahad smiled as Bors turned in surprise to see his daughter standing on a chair behind him.

"I thought I told you to go to bed. Your mother's going to have both our hides if you don't get yourself home. Go on, now!"

"But, I'm good at finding things! I found Niamh, didn't I? And Caderyn, too!" she pleaded, staring at her father with hopeful eyes.

"No. You're going to bed. It's late—you should have been in bed hours ago," he answered, lifting her up from the chair. Kissing her forehead, he set her down and nudged her towards the door. "G'night, Eight," he said gruffly. "And I'd better not find you out of bed until morning!" he called out as she slowly trudged for the door.

Bors followed her to the door, watching her as she trudged outside. Aldric started to speak, but Bors held up a hand, halting him.

"Wait for it," Bors mumbled to the others, watching as Hummingbird furtively glanced back to see if he was watching. "BED, NOW," he yelled, his loud voice reverberating across the courtyard. He smiled as he watched her change direction, finally heading for home, and he turned back to the three men. "What can I say? She's just like me."

"That she is, Bors," Gawain said with a smile. "No one would dispute that. Now, Number Ten…I'm sure Lancelot would argue that one with you…"

"Ah, shut it, Gawain! Speaking of ol' Lancey, where is he?"

"That's what we were discussing. We need to find him, and we don't have a lot of time. Not if I know Dayn. And if Hummingbird was right, and Tristan decides to get involved, well…I don't have to tell you how much blood may be shed this night."

* * *

In another tavern, a considerable distance from the first, Lancelot sat at a table in the corner, alone and miserable. He swirled the ale in his mug around, staring into its amber depths despairingly. He still couldn't believe that Arthur wasn't going to come with them. He'd always known that one day, they would take separate paths. _But he was supposed to go to Rome. I could have visited him there. If he stays here, it will be the death of him. He can't hope to fight the Saxons on the morrow and survive. They're hopelessly outnumbered._ Anguish ate at him as he thought about what tomorrow would bring. Dayn would stay, for he would serve no other Roman than Arthur, and without a proper discharge, he could never travel the breadth of the Roman Empire. No, Dayn would remain in Britain for the rest of his life, Lancelot knew. And the others? No doubt they would scatter once they reached Sarmatia, and Lancelot thought it doubtful that he would ever see them again.

He felt his throat tighten with grief, feeling as though everything was crashing down around him. Arthur had been his best friend, his brother, for fifteen years, but not only that, he was all that Lancelot knew. This life, fighting at Arthur's side, was the only one he knew, and now it was coming to an abrupt end. _It would have been alright if Arthur was coming with us, but now he's going to stay here on this hellhole of an island and I'll be alone._ And it was that that frightened Lancelot more than anything. He didn't fear death, he feared being alone. Loneliness ate at him as thought of what the future would bring.

_Why can't things just stay as they are?_ he thought angrily, slamming his fist down on the table. He knew it was a child's wish, with no hope of coming true, but he wished it nonetheless. The joy of being free from Roman control paled at the thought of leaving Arthur behind to face what would surely be his death. _Why does he have to be so damn noble?_

Suddenly, the door of the tavern burst open and Aldric, Bors, Gawain, and Galahad came in, interrupting Lancelot's internal rant.

"Lancelot, we need you—there's trouble stirring." Lancelot listened intently as Bors filled him in. _Shit, we've got to find Dayn. For sure, Tristan can take care of himself, but Dayn…no, he's bound to find trouble._

"We've got to take care of things without Arthur finding out," Gawain said, his eyes dark with worry. "It would place him in an awkward position if Dayn were to be caught. There'd be no way for Arthur to get him out of it. Especially if dead bodies start showing up, which, knowing Dayn, is entirely possible."

"Does anyone know what Dayn may have planned?" Lancelot asked.

"Hell no, none of us even suspected he was up to something ," Bors said, answering for all of them.

"Damn." Lancelot led the way out of the tavern, knowing that they had to find Dayn before the Romans caught on, or they would have a hard time of it, and Dayn would surely be in a mountain of trouble.

* * *

From the shadows of a rooftop, Dayn watched Bishop Germanius enter Arthur's quarters. Arthur had given up his own room for the pompous bastard, but it suited Dayn's purposes well, because now he knew exactly where to find the man.

Spotting several guards walking below, Dayn ducked back down into the shadows, knowing that it was too soon for him to be seen. _If they see me…_But the darkness kept its secrets, obscuring him from Roman eyes. The night worked well to conceal him, and Dayn welcomed the darkness, reveling in its ability to disguise and hide. His eyes glowed eerily in the moonlight, as though lit from within by a fiery radiance. His rage was an almost tangible thing, smoldering inside him like embers of a flame, simply biding its time until it could grow into a conflagration. And grow it would…

An hour passed, and still Dayn waited. Waited for the perfect time. And finally, everything stilled as the night settled upon the garrison and its surroundings. With a smile, Dayn slowly slid away from the edge of the rooftop, jumping to the ground without a sound. Slipping around the back of the building he'd been waiting on, he grabbed a low burning torch from the wall. _I think it needs a little oil, _he thought with a sudden grin. He dipped into the oil that had been placed nearby, adding fuel to the torch until it burned with bright intensity. He started to replace the oil where he'd found it, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. The flame of the torch was reflected in his eyes as he walked around the building and sprinted to Arthur's quarters, coming up under the window of Arthur's room.

Hefting the urn of oil in his hand, he slowly dribbled it onto the window sill with a steady hand, watching as it spilled down the interior of the wall, pooling on the floor. From there, the oil slowly began to spread out from the window, and Dayn gave it another moment to ooze toward the center of the room. And then with a cold smile, Dayn heaved the torch into the open window, watching in morbid fascination as the flames caught on the spilled oil and spread. _I hope Arthur isn't attached to anything in his quarters. _Dayn spared a moment to feel guilty about destroying Arthur's room before he shrugged indifferently. _We all have to make sacrifices. Besides, it's for a good cause, _he thought with a smile. Dayn hurried around the side of the building, and crouched down at the side of Arthur's door to wait once more. _It shouldn't be long now,_ he thought with dark amusement. _Fire works swiftly._ He knew what was happening inside, the fire devouring everything in its path, sparing nothing as the flames burned, burned like the fire that was aflame within him, and Dayn exulted in it, glad to feel something other than the deep, chilling cold that had pervaded him. _I want this one all to myself, Nemhain. I want to remember this kill._

As he addressed the goddess, Dayn heard the sound he'd been waiting for. The sound of the door opening. The bishop hurried outside, coughing and choking as he started to yell for help. _No help will come for you this night_, Dayn thought with a grim smile. Standing, he lunged for the bishop, capturing him in a choke-hold around the throat, his sword clenched firmly in his free hand.

"What is the meaning of this? Unhand me at once!" the bishop said angrily. Dayn sneered at his arrogance, tightening his grip on the bishop's neck.

"The meaning of this, Bishop? The meaning is simple. You caused the death of one of my brothers, and now you must pay the price."

"You will be executed for this treason," the bishop shouted, trying to yell over the growing roar of the fire that was spilling out of the open door.

"Perhaps. But you won't be alive to see it," he said. With a sharp thrust, he plunged his sword into the bishop's left flank, his eyes burning with a fiery rage as he felt the bishop writhing with pain as the sword drove into him. He released the bishop, watching as the man slowly slid off the end of his blade as he cried out in agony.

Grabbing the bishop by the scruff of his collar, Dayn dragged the bishop to the pen near the stables, dropping him in the muck with a smirk. "I've always been fond of irony, Bishop. Know this: you died on a Sarmatian blade, and you died among the swine of your own kind." He listened to the bishop's impassioned pleas with indifference, watching in grim satisfaction as the blood mixed with the mud and the shit of the pig pen.

He watched, waiting for the bishop's movements to still, unwilling to leave until he knew it was done. And finally, the bishop ceased to move, and Dayn knew it was finished.

"May you be blessed in your next life, Cei," he murmured, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He felt a modicum of peace steal through him, like a drop of water, quenching the fiery rage that had been burning in his soul since Cei's death.

Hearing yells nearby, he abandoned the body and took off into the shadows, allowing the smoke from the nearby fire to mask his movements from any roving eye. _Someone will surely notice the absence of the illustrious Bishop, and it won't be long before they find him. No doubt I'll be the first suspect. _It was time to get Orainne and disappear.

Ducking between two buildings, he almost tripped over Tristan who was crouched at the mouth of the alley, examining tracks in the dirt. Tristan's hand immediately went to his dagger, and Dayn hurriedly pushed the hood of his cloak back from his face.

"It's me, Tristan," Dayn said softly, holding his hands out from his body so that Tristan wouldn't accidentally stab him.

"Ah. Fleeing the scene of the crime?" Tristan asked, nodding in the direction of the yelling and screaming that Dayn had left behind. Dayn grinned, shrugging his shoulders innocently as though to say, "Who, me?"

Tristan shook his head and turned back to the mess of tracks on the ground. Dayn knelt down next to him, peering at the ground intently.

"By the way, the blue paintit suits you," Tristan said suddenly, his eyes never leaving the ground as he made the observation. Dayn grinned, considering trying to wipe some of it off, but deciding just as quickly not to. He'd need it soon enough, if he had to leave the garrison in a hurry.

"So, who are you tracking?" Dayn asked, glancing at the scout curiously.

"The captain who attacked Niamh."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"What do you think?" Tristan asked, his voice betraying nothing.

"Well, I think you are…but if you're not, can I do it?"

"I'm going to take care of it personally. But I have to find him first."

"You're the best tracker I knowwhat's the problem?"

"The tracks are all over the place, and I think the bastard is circling around," Tristan answered shortly. Dayn squinted, studying the tracks in the dim light before he pointed to a set of tracks.

"This is Orainne's tread, here. I know it well."

"What was she doing here? He didn't attack her as well, did he?"

"No. She saw him, stopped him from harming Niamh any further…she cut his cheek for you, so you can recognize the bastard when you see him."

"Clever of her," Tristan said, with a nod of appreciation. Dayn stood up again, pacing impatiently as Tristan continued to study the tracks intently.

"Dayn, these tracks…the Roman is following her," Tristan said, looking up at Dayn suddenly.

"What are you saying?"

"The Roman followed Orainne's footsteps."

"But, if he followed her, then…he must have followed us back to Niamh!" The two knights broke into a run, both of them rushing for Tristan's quarters with swords drawn.

"Dayn, if he's there—he's mine," Tristan said as they ran. Dayn nodded, disappointed that he wouldn't get a chance to take on the Roman. But he knew well enough that it was Tristan's kill, and he wouldn't stand in his way.

And then a piercing scream rent the air, and Dayn felt his blood run cold. _Orainne! _

* * *

Lancelot was very close to throwing up his hands in surrender.

"We're never going to find him," he stated bluntly. "This is impossible. It would serve him right if he got caught."

"Too bad Tristan's right in the thick of it, or we could get him to track Dayn for us," Galahad said, shaking his head ruefully.

"Or Caderyn. He usually knows where to find Dayn," Aldric added, his eyes searching the darkness for any sign of the errant young knight.

"Yes, well, if Eight was telling the truth—and there's no guarantee, mind you—then Caderyn is with Niamh and Orainne in Tristan's room. So that's no help," Bors said.

"Wait, did you just say Caderyn is with the women in Tristan's room?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

"Yeah. What, is that important?"

"Well, there's our solution, boys. We simply need to wait with Caderyn in Tristan's room. Dayn won't leave Orainne behind."

"But suppose he's caught before he returns for her, what then?" Gawain asked.

"Just pray to your gods that that doesn't happen, because there's no help for it," Lancelot replied. "We don't have a lot of options here. And besides, it will be a lot more fun to sit with the women than search the garrison for Dayn," he said with a smirk.

As they began to circle back around for Tristan's room, Lancelot suddenly came to a halt, and the others turned back questioningly.

"What is it?" Aldric asked.

"Do you smell smoke?" Lancelot asked the others. He looked up at the sky, feeling a sense of unease blossom as he saw the tendrils of smoke rising into the air. _Shit. _

* * *

"That boy's going to be the death of us all," Aldric said as they broke into a run.

Dayn put on a burst of speed, adrenaline coursing through him as fear for Orainne lent him speed. Tristan kept pace with him, not letting on that he, too, was worried.

When they reached Tristan's room, Dayn came to a sudden stop in the doorway, his heart freezing in his chest. Tristan pushed past Dayn, his eyes immediately darkening as took in the sight before him. Caderyn lay slumped against the wall, blood pooling on the floor around him, his sword lying a few feet from his outstretched hand. Niamh was struggling with a man on the bed, fighting to push him off of her. The man was one that Tristan recognized, but even if he hadn't known him on sight, the cut on his cheek was stark against the paleness of his features.

Tristan strode briskly over to the man, pulling him off Niamh and driving his sword in under the man's armor, feeling a deep satisfaction as the man stiffened, screaming in agony.

Jerking the man closer, Tristan said in a quiet, deadly tone, "I changed my mind. I won't bother making your death look like an accident. I want the pleasure of watching you bleed."

Dayn took a moment to appreciate Tristan's wrath before he ran for Caderyn, worried about his sickly color and the amount of blood on the floor.

"Cade? Cade, answer me," Dayn said worriedly. Glancing around for something to staunch the bleeding, he suddenly went cold. "Where's Orainne?"

Tristan turned to look at Dayn, seeing the absolute panic on Dayn's face. Pulling his sword out of the Roman, he dropped the captain on the floor with a cold look before he took a step toward Caderyn and Dayn. As much as he wanted to take Niamh into his arms, she wasn't physically hurt. But Caderyn, on the other hand, looked half-dead. Grabbing a discarded blanket from the bed, he rushed over to them, pressing the blanket down on the alarming gash in Caderyn's side, eliciting a groan from the injured knight.

"Oh, goddess, they took her, Dayn," Niamh said, a sob escaping as she sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest.

"What? Who took her, Niamh?" Dayn demanded, turning to face her.

"Roman soldiers. The captain told them to take her, that he'd come for her later. Caderyn tried to stop them, but one of them got behind him…" she said, her voice breaking as she was overcome with sobs. "You have to find her, Dayn."

Dayn ran for the door, colliding with Lancelot who was just coming in.

"Whoa, hold it there, Dayn," Lancelot said, grabbing him. The other knights pushed into the room, Aldric and Galahad hurrying over to help Tristan with Caderyn while Lancelot pulled Dayn off to the side, holding on to his arm. "Gods, Dayn, you stink—what have you been doing?" he asked, distracted by the thick, cloying scent of oil emanating from Dayn.

"Let go, Lance!" Dayn exclaimed, not willing to be distracted. "I have to find Orainne—those Roman bastards took her!"

"Dayn, whatever it was that you did, you've stirred up a hornet's nest of trouble out there. If you go out there now, you're only going to get yourself thrown in the garrison prison."

"Lance, none of that matters! I have to get Orainne!"

"No, you need to get out of here. Look, let us take care of getting Orainne while you get out of the garrison."

"But, I can't—"

"Dayn, you have to trust me," Lancelot said, looking the young knight in the eye. "I'll bring her to you myself. We'll meet you at the edge of the forest—wait for us there." Dayn looked at Lance, letting him see the fear and worry in his eyes before he gave a nod. He started for the door, but called back to Tristan. Tristan left Aldric and Gawain to care for Caderyn, and came over to Dayn.

"Tristan, when they find the body, tell them I did it," Dayn told him in a quiet tone.

"No. It was my kill. I will take responsibility for it."

"Tristan, you have your freedom. If you take the blame, you'll either die or be pursued for the rest of your life. You have to travel the breadth of the entire Roman Empire to get home—you'd never make it! I've killed enough Romans that one more won't matter. After tonight, I'm gone anyway—being blamed for one more death won't matter for me." Dayn paused, letting the words sink in before he continued. "I'll never leave this island, Tristan. My life is here, now, but you…you have to be free. You've waited fifteen years to return home. Don't ruin your chance, not for them."

Dayn could see the regret on Tristan's face and knew the older knight didn't like putting the blame on Dayn. But Dayn knew the Romans would never let Tristan make it home if they knew the truth.

"Tristan, who else will care for Niamh, if you aren't free?" Dayn asked, using the only argument that he knew would convince Tristan. Tristan glanced down, before he finally agreed. Dayn gripped his forearm in farewell, knowing that this could be the last time he ever saw the knights. "Tell the others farewell for me, and take care of Caderyn. Perhaps we will meet again someday." Dayn watched Tristan return to the others before he headed for the door.

"Take care of it, Lance," he said quietly as he passed. Lance nodded in return, and Dayn pulled the hood of his cloak up once more, slipping outside and melting back into the darkness.

Lancelot hurried over to the others who were gathered around Caderyn worriedly.

"Is he alright?" Lancelot asked, worry creeping into his voice.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Tristan said. "We've got to get him to a healer."

"Bors, you and Gawain are with me—we have to find Orainne. Aldric, help Tristan get Caderyn to the healer. Take Niamh with you. Galahad, find Jols and get him to help you get the captain's body out of here. Dump it somewhere, anywhere, just as long as it's out of here."

Everyone immediately went into action, Aldric and Tristan bundling Caderyn up, using a blanket as a makeshift stretcher, and moving quickly to get him to a healer. Galahad shot out the door to look for Jols, and Lancelot led the way to look for Orainne, Bors and Gawain behind them.

"We have to find her, boys. Dayn's counting on us."

* * *

Worry and fear ate at Dayn as he slipped once more into the darkness of the night, heading quickly for the wall where he'd left Brina saddled and ready to ride. _If they've killed Orainne, not even the gods will be able to protect them,_ he thought darkly, feeling the familiar chill once more invading his soul. Spotting a number of Roman soldiers passing by, Dayn crouched behind a stack of barrels, waiting for them to pass. He peeked around the side, checking for stragglers when a firm hand grasped him by the shoulder and turned him around. He went for his sword only to feel relief when he saw that it was Arthur.

"Dayn, what are you doing?" Arthur asked, more than a little suspicious as a result of the chaos that was overtaking the garrison as well as Dayn's prowling behavior. Dayn stood up from his crouch to face Arthur, and looking at him, Dayn was suddenly reminded of the first time he'd seen Arthur. _Things were so simple then. Arthur had all the answers, and I never doubted him, not for a moment. But now, it's all complicated, and now I see what I didn't see when I was small. Arthur is but a man who struggles and toils just like the rest of us._ How Dayn wished he was small again, with a child's belief that Arthur could make everything alright.

"Arthur. Whatever happens tonight, know this—I will follow you, no matter the cost. When tomorrow arrives, I will be at your side." Confusion shone in Arthur's eyes, and something about Dayn's voice told Arthur that something big had happened, and whatever it was, it was bad.

"Dayn," Arthur began, but Dayn shook his head, backing slowly away.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I can't stay any longer," he said, giving Arthur a regretful smile.

Arthur watched as Dayn disappeared into the shadows, and wondered just what Dayn had gotten himself into this time. He'd been with Guenevere up on the wall, still watching the Saxons gather, when shouts of fire and murder had begun to echo around the garrison, and he'd come down to investigate.

Not for the first time, Arthur felt as though a heavy burden was weighing down on him, the responsibility of so many lives, of his men, and of these people, resting on his shoulders. With a deep sigh, he turned back to face the pandemonium that had engulfed the garrison. There was no telling what sort of mess Dayn had left behind.

* * *

With Tristan busy with Caderyn and Niamh, it fell to Gawain to help Lancelot track the soldiers who had taken Orainne. They finally traced the smudged tracks to a secluded section of the barracks, and as the knights gathered outside the last door, Lancelot looked at the others, the gravity of the situation filling his eyes with the weight of what they had to do.

"Knights, we can afford no mistakes, here." He kicked the door open, his swords clenched tightly in each hand. He breathed a quick sigh of relief when he saw Orainne huddling on the floor in the center of the room as six Roman soldiers taunted her. _It's probably a good thing that she doesn't know enough Latin to understand what they're saying to her_, he thought wryly.She looked scared, but she was unhurt as far as Lancelot could see. He'd been worried that he'd find her too late, and that Dayn would get himself killed going after the bastards.

The soldiers had looked up when the door burst open, and they now drew their swords, drawing closer to Orainne, subtly threatening to use her against the knights if they made a move.

"Gentlemen—and I use the term loosely," Lancelot began, "let's think this through, shall we? Now, it's obvious that you outnumber us two to one, but we all know who has the greater skill here. Now we _could_ fight for the girl, but someone's going to come out on the losing side—who do you think it will be, hmm?" The soldiers looked at one another nervously, gripping their swords in sweaty hands. "Look, your captain is already dead. There's no reason to take this any further. So…what's it going to be, gentlemen?"

After a moment's hesitation, one of them stepped back. "Take her, then." One of the Romans looked as though he'd argue, and Lancelot tightened his grip on his sword. But the Roman changed his mind, and stepped back, and the other four soldiers followed suit. Seeing that she was no longer surrounded, Orainne jumped up and ran for Lancelot, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. His eyes widened at the sudden display, and he sheathed one of his swords, freeing up one hand to pat her on the back awkwardly.

"Thank you, Lancelot," she said in heavily accented Latin, squeezing him gratefully.

"Does this mean you're not afraid of me anymore?" he asked with a smile. She looked at him quizzically, and he shook his head, knowing that she didn't understand. "Never mind. Come on, I have to get you to Dayn." Whether she understood what he said or not, she caught his meaning, perking up at the sound of Dayn's name. Pushing her behind him, Lancelot slowly retreated from the room, his eyes never leaving the Romans. Gawain and Bors remained in the door, allowing Lancelot to get out of the room with Orainne before they too backed out. The knights knew all too well of Roman treachery, and none of them would dare turn their backs on Romans.

The three knights formed a protective barrier around Orainne as they hurried to the stables. Not bothering to wake any of the stable boys, Lancelot made quick work of saddling his horse, and lifted Orainne into the saddle.

"It's best if I go alone," Lancelot said, turning to Gawain and Bors.

"Have you lost your mind?" Gawain asked incredulously. "The entire Saxon army is outside these walls, and you want to ride out alone?"

"One man is less noticeable than three, Gawain. Now, go! See to Caderyn, and if Arthur asks any questions, tell him that I'm with some wench. He won't question you." Pulling himself up into the saddle behind Orainne, he took the reins and spurred his horse, charging out of the stable. They had precious little time to get outside the Wall before the remainder of the Roman forces left at the garrison tightened their defenses against the Saxon threat.

Holding on to Orainne, Lancelot was struck by how small and seemingly frail she was. _She can't be more than sixteen years old or so_, he thought. _Small wonder that Dayn is so protective of her. He's lucky to have her. Even if she is a Woad._ Orainne's newfound trust in him had given him pause, and he found that the trust was twofold. _I never thought I would find myself trusting a Woad,_ he thought with a smile.

Leaving the wall behind, Lancelot put a finger to his lips, cautioning Orainne without words to be silent. She nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around her, frightened that they may be discovered by Saxons. They were taking a huge gamble, and they could be caught at any minute. Finally, they left the Saxon lines behind and reached the trees, and Lancelot looked around, his eyes scanning the trees, searching.

"Dayn," he called out softly. A rustle in the brush some feet away caught his attention, and Dayn stepped out of the trees, hurrying towards them. Orainne squirmed, trying to get down, and Lancelot lowered her to the ground with a smile, watching the young girl run for Dayn. Dayn caught her up in his arms, spinning her around before kissing her deeply. He wasn't sure how long he held her there, his mouth on hers, before he heard someone clearing their throat.

He pulled away reluctantly to see Lancelot smiling down at him from his saddle. Looking up at him, Dayn smiled gratefully up at him.

"I can never repay you for this, Lance."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm sure I can think of something," Lancelot replied with a grin. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any available Woad women, do you?"

"Available Woad women, yes. One that doesn't want to slit your throat for being a Sarmatian, probably not. But I'll see what I can do," Dayn answered with a grin. Lancelot turned his horse to head back for the garrison, but Dayn stopped him by grabbing his horse by the bridle. "Lance, maybe you should come with us tonight. I imagine things are quite messy inside the garrison by now."

"Dayn, you just implied that there are an awful lot of Woads who would love to see me dead, and now you want me to stay with you in their midst?"

"No one will harm you, I swear it. I trusted you with all that matters to me in this world. Now it's time for you to trust me." Lancelot met his gaze and considered his words before finally acquiescing.

"Very well, Dayn. But I expect you to help me find that woman you mentioned."

"Of course," Dayn said with a smile. "I'm sure Orainne can point to a few who would find you quite attractive." Dayn led Orainne to the trees where Brina waited patiently, and he lifted her onto the saddle, before climbing up behind her. "Follow me closely, Lance. I wouldn't want you to get lost." With a last grin at Lancelot, he led the way through the darkness to where the Woads were gathering among Orainne's tribe, preparing for tomorrow's battle.

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure about placement in relation to the Wall in these scenes, so I'm just doing what I want. If anyone thought it strange, sorry, but just go with it. Ok, so here's to all my reviewers! These are kind of long, but I figure, if you guys take the time to review, it's only right to take the time to respond back to you. And I have fun doing it, so if they're a little long, who cares? You guys are great!

**ModestySparrow9:** Hope you liked Hummingbird's scenes here as well! I've really grown fond of her, so I tried to get her in a bit more. I won't have much opportunity to put her in anymore, so I did what I could with this chapter. She might pop up again in the epilogue though.

**Aelia O'Hession:** Yes, Hummingbird is a cutie, isn't she? She doesn't serve much purpose, and they say you shouldn't have characters in a story if they don't have a purpose, but I figured, what the heck? She's cute, and funny, so I'm putting her in anyway. Dagonet, I'm sorry to say, won't make it to the final battle, but he'll be in the epilogue chapter for sure, so don't worry! By the way, I'm eagerly looking forward to the next chapter of your story, so please update soon!

**mimishell:** I know you live just down the hall from me, and I've already thanked you for sending me a review, but I'm going to thank you here as well. So…thanks! Aren't you pleased to know that I'm almost done with this one, and will soon devote more time to the Éomer fanfic that's been on the backburner for ages? Of course, there's that prequel story for Dayn that I wanted to write…but that'll only be a one-shot as far as I know. Anyways, if you'd like to send me another review, that would be great! Hint, hint!

**MonDieu666:** Hey, glad you reviewed. Hope you liked Tristan in this chapter as well. I've tried to be fairer and devote a little more story space to him. I managed to pull in the other knights a bit more than usual as well. Anyways, review if you can!

**abeldina:** So, how did you like Tristan's revenge? I had hoped to draw it out a little more, but seeing as how Caderyn was bleeding to death, Tristan's opportunity was cut short. But I think it was still cool, despite how quick it was. In some sense, though, Tristan really isn't one to toy with his "victims" like Dayn is. Dayn taunts, whereas Tristan is about the kill. Emotions don't tend to enter into it much for Tristan. Anyways, I digress…thanks for reviewing for me!

**chiefhow:** I'm sure Tristan appreciates the offer of chocolate, but I think he would have killed the captain for free. Thanks for the compliments, by the way—it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And yes, I do put Niamh through a lot, don't I? But it'll come out okay in the end for her, so worry not! Dayn fans, including myself, have come to expect those scary moments from him, and I do so enjoy writing them. I like writing characters like Dayn—he's so uninhibited. He just does what he wants, without a thought for the consequences. I happen to think his revenge was a lot cooler than Tristan's, but then, Dayn is more into toying with those he kills than Tristan is. See my note to abeldina. Anyways, thanks so much for reviewing. I always appreciate hearing from you.

**Camreyn:** It's always so entertaining to read your reviews. You're the only person I know of who reviews as they're reading, and it makes for a really entertaining review. Anyways, you're the only one who commented on the burial scene, and for that alone, I thank you. I really liked that scene, and I thought it was very fitting for Cei. I'm glad that you liked the Niamh scenes, too. I think everyone was getting especially curious about it. And yep, you saw that coming, didn't you—the attack on her, I mean. The reason that Orainne didn't just kill the captain herself goes back to the fact that it's just not in her nature to kill someone. She would have if the captain had forced her hand, but she knew that Tristan would take care of it. Granted, it would have saved them a lot of trouble in the long run if she had killed him, but then, that wouldn't make for as interesting a story, would it? Anyways, as one of my Hummingbird fans, I hope you liked her scenes here. She'll pop up again in the epilogue for sure, but probably not in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!


	15. Chapter 15: An All Consuming Fire

A/N: You may recognize ModestySparrow9's character Adima from "The Heart of the Hawk," who makes another appearance in this chapter. If you haven't read it, you should check it out. Thanks Modesty, for letting me use her. Also, special thanks goes to Aelia O'Hession, who helped me out with Camulus, the god of war that is mentioned in this chapter.

Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah…yes, we know what I don't own.

Chapter 15: An All-Consuming Fire

Hummingbird's eyes shot open with excitement and she jumped out of bed, crawling over Number 7 and Number 9, and just barely managing to avoid kicking Nine in the head. She hurriedly pulled her dress on, not bothering to brush out her hair before she rushed outside, running for Tristan's room.

Outside, Gawain, Galahad, and Bors were loading up the wagons for the journey home while Aldric helped Caderyn to one of the wagons. Caderyn looked tired and weak, and he leaned heavily on Aldric as they slowly made their way to the wagon. Dagonet was already loaded in, once again resting comfortably despite the chaos going on around him.

Gawain caught sight of Hummingbird running past him, and he grinned, calling out for her. "Hummingbird, where are you off to?" She backtracked, hurrying back to him eagerly to leap into his arms. He caught her up easily, smiling at the excitement on her face as she played with the tresses of his hair.

"Did ya' find Lancelot, Gawain? Cause I know I could have found him for ya' if I hadn't had to go to bed."

"Yeah, I bet you could, Hummingbird, but we found him alright. It wasn't too hard this time."

"And did ya' find Dayn and Tristan?"

"Uh, you could say that," he hedged.

"Dayn's not in trouble now, is he?" she asked, worried for her favorite person in the world. She had to check up on him every now and then.

"He would be if he were here."

"What do you mean?" she asked him curiously.

"Dayn's not here anymore, Hummingbird."

"Well, where did he go?" Gawain looked down into her face, knowing she didn't understand.

"He's with the Woads now."

"But he'll be back, right?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He won't be coming with us, Hummingbird."

"You mean he's staying here? He's not going to Sarmatia with us?" she asked, her eyes widening as her chin began to tremble.

Gawain shook his head sadly, watching as Hummingbird's eyes welled up with tears. The little girl burst into tears, burying her face in his neck, and Gawain could almost feel her heart breaking.

"I didn't get to say goodbye," she sobbed. Bors approached, his eyes questioning as he caught sight of his daughter in Gawain's arms sobbing as though her world was coming to an end.

"She's upset about Dayn," Gawain said, answering Bors' unspoken question. Noticing Gawain speaking to someone else, Hummingbird's head lifted and upon seeing her father, she squirmed to get down. Gawain set her down, watching in disbelief as the six-year-old stomped over to Bors, her tearstained face glaring up at him in childish fury.

"Papa, you made me go to bed and I didn't get to see Dayn, and now he's gone, and I'm mad at you!"

"Now, Eight," Bors started placatingly. But Hummingbird would have none of it.

"NO! Dayn's gone forever and ever, and I hate you!" she cried, her face crumpling as she started to cry again. She ran off in tears, and Bors was left staring after her, stricken.

"I'm sure she didn't mean that, Bors," Gawain said sympathetically.

"You think so?"

"Of course, Bors. Children say things all the time that they don't mean." Bors perked up a bit at the thought, for at heart, he was a man who deeply loved his children, and the thought of one of them hating him cut deeply.

Before he could reply, however, Lancelot rode up, looking quite pleased with himself. Gawain watched with a scowl as Lancelot dismounted smoothly and tied his horse to a nearby wagon.

"Let me tell you about the pretty Woad I bedded last night," Lancelot said with his trademark grin. Gawain, however, was not amused, and he leaned forward and smacked Lancelot in the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?" Lancelot asked, annoyed now.

"That was for not sending word back to us last night. We were worried about you! We were left here to wonder if you'd been caught, and the whole time you're with some wench!" Gawain speared Lancelot with an angry glare before he turned and stalked off.

Lancelot turned to Bors, who just shrugged.

"Don't look at me, Lancelot. I wasn't worried. I was already drunk by then," he said with a grin. Lancelot laughed and threw his arm over Bors' shoulders. "So, about this wench I was with last night…she was a Woad, but I'm beginning to see why Dayn favors them…"

* * *

Hummingbird swiped at the tears in her eyes angrily as she ran for her favorite hiding spot. _I'm gonna find Dayn myself, and I'll make him come to Sarmatia with us. _Reaching the stack of barrels not far from the tavern that the knights often frequented, she crawled around them to the back of the pile and hugged her knees to her chest. _I'll wait here, and when everyone's gone, I'll go find Dayn,_ she thought confidently. Possessing her father's stubbornness, she resolved to do exactly that. _I'm a good finder. I know I can find him._

* * *

Dayn strapped on his armor, glancing at the brand on his forearm with a grin. _If I'd known it would be this easy to desert, I'd have considered it a long time ago._ He glanced at it once more before pulling his bracer on over it. He'd let Orainne replace the bandage on his leg, none the worse for wear after the previous night's exploits, except for a slight ache. Once the battle began, Dayn knew, he would notice it not. He secured his hair back from his face, not wanting it to impede him in battle. _How Tristan can stand to have his hair falling in his face, I'll never know. _

Orainne came up behind him, holding a small jar of woad in her hands, a sad smile on her face. He sat down, and she knelt before him with the woad and slowly began to apply the blue paint to his face and neck. Suddenly, she dropped the jar and threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tightly into the crook of neck.

"I don't want you to go," she murmured.

"Orainne, I promise you, this fight will not be my last. I'll return to you," he murmured softly, trying to soothe her, but not sure that he could. For a long time, he just held her in his arms, feeling her warmth against him, enjoying the softness of her skin, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Dayn?"

"Hmm?"

"I think the baby will come in the spring," she said softly, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

"Vanora's pregnant again?" he asked, surprised that Orainne knew of Vanora, and that Bors hadn't mentioned it. He was usually quick to inform the knights when he got Vanora pregnant again.

"No, Dayn," she said with a shy smile. "Not Vanora's, mine."

"Yours?"

"Well, ours," she said, correcting herself. Dayn didn't respond though, and she looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "Are you angry?" she asked hesitantly.

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then, what is it?"

"Well, it's just that…I've never thought about being a father before," he said, still trying to get over the shock of her announcement. _I never thought I'd survive long enough to be a father._ But he knew he couldn't tell her that.

"So, are you happy?"

"Yes, Orainne, I'm happy," he said with a smile. And it was true. "But let's hope the baby gets your temperament and not mine." She smiled back at him, and he hugged her to him, kissing her temple.

"Dayn!" He glanced up to see Garran standing in the doorway. "We're starting to gather at the tree line," he told Dayn. "You need to hurry. Artorius is on top of the hill." Dayn nodded, and turned back to Orainne.

"I have to go, love," he told her softly.

"I know," she said tearfully. "Be careful, Dayn, and may Nemhain and Camulus protect you." He kissed her, and ran for the door, not looking back because he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave her if he did.

* * *

Arthur watched with a heavy heart as the caravan of Romans, peasants, and his knights set out from the garrison, taking with it all that he held dear. Unable to watch any longer, he turned his back and pulled his helm securely over his head, feeling comfort in its familiar weight. _Merciful God, watch over my knights, and may they find what they seek. They've waited so long for their freedom, and long have I seen the yearning for home in each of their faces. Let them have what they so long deserve. _

Sitting upon his white horse upon the crest of Badon Hill, he felt his heart swell with emotion as he looked across the land that had been his home for over fifteen years. Though he'd lived on British lands for most of his life, for the first time, he felt as though he'd found his place. He was home.

"Artorius!" The yell was unmistakably Bors, and Arthur could make out his figure as he left the column and raised his sword in the air. "RUS!" Hearing the familiar cry of the Sarmatians, Arthur felt an answering echo within.

"RUS!" he yelled, pouring out his feeling in one loud roar, a final farewell to his beloved knights, his loyal friends. The cry echoed across the land, and as it faded, Arthur knew with a terrible ache in his heart that it was goodbye.

Unable to watch the knights' departure any longer, he turned to gaze at the tree line. Though he saw nothing, he knew that by now, the Woads would be gathering. He only hoped that it would be enough to defeat the Saxons. Hearing hoof beats, he turned to see Dayn riding toward him at a gallop.

"Dayn, your penchant for trouble never ceases to astound me," he said wryly, referring to the previous night's fiasco with a raised eyebrow. Dayn grinned at him as his horse fell in beside Arthur's.

"Well, you know me, Arthur. If an opportunity presents itself, I just can't let it pass me by."

"So you killed two Romans of considerable status because the opportunity arose?"

"No. Only one of those kills was mine.

"Let me guessthe bishop?"

"How did you know?" Dayn asked with a smile.

"Dayn, that kill had your name written all over it. From setting my quarters on fire, which we'll discuss later, to dumping the man with the pigs…that was all you."

"Ah, Arthur, you know me well. Sorry about the fire, by the way. What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Yes, well, you owe me considerably for all of my possessions that are nothing more than charred ruins now. But aside from that, if you didn't kill the Captain, who did?"

"Tristan," Dayn told him, knowing that Arthur wouldn't give them away to anyone. Besides, Tristan had his pardon, and the Romans were leaving, so what did it matter anymore?

"Tristan? I can't imagine Tristan killing someone and leaving the body where anyone could find it."

"Well, I don't think he cared at that point. He was angrier than I've ever seen him."

"You'll have to tell me the whole story one day."

"Sure, Arthur."

"Dayn, I've often thought you too violent at times, and I cannot say that I approve of your actions as far as killing Romans is concerned. I've never thought it our place in this world to judge others and condemn them. But in this case, I think you were justified in killing the bishop. He was a man who used his authority for ill purposes, and he wasn't above concealing the truth if it suited his purposes. Considering that, I found it very easy to pretend I knew nothing when the Romans asked me about the events of last night."

"That means a lot, coming from you, Arthur." _It's nice to know that, for once, Arthur actually approves. Well, sort of. He didn't actually say come out and say that, but he didn't say that he disapproved either. The distinction is important._ "I wonder what I'll do now, with all the Romans gone," Dayn mused, seeing if he could get a rise out of Arthur.

"Dayn," Arthur lightly scolded, amused in spite of himself. "I'm glad you're here, Dayn. I am honored to have you at my side."

"No, the honor is mine. You are my commander, Arthur, but more than that, you've been the only father I've ever known. If death is what awaits me on this field of battle, then so be it, because I will follow you into the very fires of the underworld before I abandon you to fight alone."

Arthur nodded, touched at the feeling in Dayn's voice, knowing that he meant every word.

"Still, I would prefer it if you lived, Arthur. I'd hate to leave Orainne behind to chase you into the underworld," he said with a grin, breaking the solemn mood. Arthur grinned back at him, and laughed.

"Dayn, I can always count on you to be sarcastic at the most inopportune moments." Dayn chuckled, but suddenly straightened in the saddle.

"Arthur," he said, nodding in the direction of the wall. Arthur followed his gaze and saw a Saxon stepping forward from the Saxon lines followed by a smaller, skinnier man bearing a white flag. "What are you going to do?"

"Stay here," Arthur said, not answering Dayn's question. For once, Dayn didn't argue as he watched Arthur stab his standard into the ground and ride forward to meet the Saxon.

"I don't know which is worse, a Saxon or a Roman," Dayn muttered to himself. Brina tossed her head, as though to answer him. He chuckled, patting the horse on the neck. "Yeah, you're right. The Romans, definitely."

When Arthur rode back to him, Dayn saw the look in Arthur's eyes, and recognized it for what it was. Arthur was going to protect these lands with every fiber of his being, which meant that a lot of Saxons were going to meet their deaths at the end of Arthur's sword. Dayn grinned. He could hardly wait.

"Dayn, are the Woads assembled?"

"Yes, they're in place at the tree line, awaiting your command."

"Excellent, now we wait."

"Wait? For what?"

"The Saxons to make the first move."

Dayn sensed movement to their left, and he turned to see the remaining knights riding toward them, minus Caderyn and Dagonet. Led by Lancelot, they powered up the hill on their horses, coming to a stop beside Dayn and Arthur.

"We had some free time," Lancelot said with a smirk. "Didn't think we should let you two fight alone—you might get hurt."

"Besides, we couldn't let you have all the fun," Bors said with a smile. He maneuvered his horse until he was beside Dayn and leaned toward him. "Dayn, Dag asked me to give this to you, said he owed you." He held a dagger out, hilt first, and Dayn looked at it for a moment, admiring it before shaking his head.

"Bors, I told him he didn't owe me a thing. Orainne used my dagger to save him, and though it was lost, it served a good purpose. He owes me nothing."

"Dayn, don't you argue with me. Dag told me to make sure you took it, and you're going to. Now here," he commanded, and Dayn reluctantly took it from Bors' outstretched hand. Bors nodded in satisfaction as Dayn tucked it into his boot.

"So, Arthur, what's the plan?" Gawain asked.

"You'll see," Arthur answered. "Dayn, signal the Woads. They need to be ready to move as soon as the Saxons enter." Dayn nodded and rode off at a swift gallop.

"Enter?" Lancelot asked. "How are they going to do that?"

"We're going to open the gate for them," Arthur said with a smile.

"That's your great plan?"

"Oh there's much more to it than that, Lancelot. But all you need to know is that when I give the signal, be prepared to move. We're going to ride right through them."

* * *

Dayn watched as the flaming arrow arched into the sky, and the Woads began to move. Near the wall, smoke began to drift into the air, concealing all as the remaining peasants, led by Jols, set fire to bales of hay scattered throughout the fields before scurrying to the gate of the wall. Working together they widened the gap in the gate and ran for cover. It would be their turn to fight all too soon, but they too would wait for Arthur's signal.

Arthur watched as the Saxons began to charge forward with their battle cry echoing harshly as they ran for the open gate, ready for a fight. _It's time._

* * *

Hummingbird shivered in her place among the barrels. _Maybe I should have asked Papa to take me to Dayn,_ she thought. Something was wrong. An eerie stillness had overtaken the garrison, and no one stirred. _Where is everybody? I'm scared._ Crawling out from the pile of barrels, she came to her feet, twisting the hem of her cloak in her hands nervously.

"Papa?" she whispered. Tears filled her eyes and she fought not to let them fall as she looked around in alarm. "Papa," she said again. _I need to find Papa,_ she thought as she slowly stepped away from the barrels. She coughed as smoke blew into her eyes, causing her eyes to tear again. This time, she couldn't prevent the tears from falling as the smoke made her eyes burn. "Papa," she called. _Which way would he go?_ She looked from left to right before deciding to go right. _Arthur's God, please help me find Papa,_ she prayed. Having no gods of her own, she figured it couldn't hurt to ask Arthur's god for help. _I'm sure he won't mind sharing for a little while,_ she thought to herself. _Arthur is a nice man, and Papa always said that Arthur prays to his god all the time. Maybe he listens a lot then. Yeah, I bet that's why. So, maybe he won't mind helping me. Just this once._ With a child's hope, she smiled and walked forward, leaving all that was familiar behind.

Off in the distance, drums began to beat and a roar filled the air as the Saxons charged.

* * *

The wagons moved along, the wheels bumping a bit as the horses pulled them, and Caderyn could feel the lulling effect the gentle swaying was having on him as his eyes began to drift shut. Across from him, Dagonet was already asleep, resting comfortably due to the herbal remedy that Orainne had left for him. Lucan had grown bored with the quiet and had left to join Bors' rowdy bunch in another wagon, eager for friends to play with.

Having been left behind by the other knights after being told he was in no condition to fight, Caderyn had found himself with nothing else to do but lie about in the wagon and sleep. And though he longed to fight alongside the others, he had to admit that he needed the rest. He still felt weak from loss of blood, and he knew he was far from being up to his usual standards. He could feel sleep dragging at him, the ache in his side having begun to taper off to a dull throb, when a bloodcurdling scream rent the silence. He shot up, ignoring the sudden stab of pain as he grabbed his sword and crawled to the open end of the wagon. The wagon had come to a sudden halt at the scream, as had many of the others, and Caderyn used the opportunity to hop out, wincing as the movement jarred him painfully.

Outside, Vanora was running frantically from wagon to wagon, crying out and Caderyn's heart dropped as he realized she was calling for Hummingbird. He hurried toward her, his arm clamped tightly against his side in order to avoid causing any unnecessary pain to the wound.

"Vanora, what happened?"

"Eight! I can't find her, Caderyn! She's not here!"

"Not here? Where would she be then? Surely, she's just hiding somewhere," he said hopefully.

"No, she's not here! I have to go back!" she cried, trying to push past him.

"Back? Vanora, you can't go back!" he said, grabbing her arm. "The garrison will be overrun by Saxons—it isn't safe!"

"I'm going to find my child, Caderyn," she said forcefully, and Caderyn knew that if he didn't do something, there would be no stopping her.

"Look, you stay with the caravan. I'll go back and search for her."

"Caderyn, you're hurt, and you've got no cause to be running around," she said. "I'll go after her myself, and I'll be careful."

"No, you won't," Caderyn said firmly. "Do you honestly think that I'll just let you return to the garrison only to get yourself hurt or killed when the Saxons find you. At least I can protect myselfyou've got no skill with a sword, Vanora. And Bors would be devastated if anything happened to you."

"But," she stammered, but Caderyn would have none of it.

"Go and fetch my armor from whatever wagon the others stashed it in. Bring it quicklywe don't have a lot of time!"

* * *

Arthur led the knights in a swift charge down the hill, the sound of the horses' hooves thundering against the ground as the smoke from numerous fires engulfed them. _This time, Nemhain, don't hold back. Give me everything you've got._

As much fun as it was to cut down the unsuspecting Saxons, Dayn was eager for a more up close and personal battle, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his wish was granted.

Following Lancelot's lead, he jumped from the saddle and waded into the fray, recklessly throwing himself into the battle with his sword raised. A shower of blood rained down on him as his sword found a Saxon, and as he ripped into the man's chest, he let loose with a war cry as the Woads made their move, emerging from the tree line with a collective roar.

As the bulk of the Saxon army met with the Woads, a feral grin appeared on Dayn's face as the blood began to surge in his veins. Guided by Nemhain's hand, he cut and stabbed, slashing at every Saxon who crossed his path.

"Dayn!" Hearing his name, he forcefully pushed away the madness momentarily, turning in the direction of the voice. "Look to Adima," Guenevere called out from nearby, and he looked in the direction she pointed in, seeing Adima with two other Woad women, Caireach and Muireann. Adima struggled to hold off a large Saxon while the other two dealt with Saxons of their own, and he could see the strain on Adima's face as she labored to hold the larger man off. Knowing she was outmatched by the Saxon, Dayn pulled Dagonet's dagger from his boot and with a swift prayer to Nemhain to guide his hand, he hurled the dagger, watching as it flew toward the Saxon. He never knew if it hit its mark because pain pierced his chest suddenly and a chilling cold swept through him.

When he looked down to see an arrow protruding through the armor right above his heart, a familiar, fiery rage grew inside him, exploding with flaming intensity. Bellowing with anger, the madness retook him and he surrendered to it willingly, letting Nemhain take him completely. Wholly unaware of the pain radiating out from the wound, he threw himself into the battle furiously.

* * *

As Caireach fought, she began to notice that more and more of the Saxon barbarians were quickly moving away from her direction, fleeing._ It can't be because of me,_ she thought, _for while I am a warrior, my skills are not such to incite that sort of fear in the Saxons._ Turning, she realized what it was that had the Saxons running. Dayn.

Though they'd met briefly once, she'd never fought at his side before, nor seen him fight. But he was fast becoming legendary among the Woads, and even as far north as Caireach's tribe, they were beginning to speak of him in whispers as "Nemhain's Avatar". _It certainly seems as though Nemhain is not the only one who has her hand upon him, for Camulus seems to have blessed his sword as well,_ she thought, thinking of the renowned invincible sword of the famous god of war that was often worshipped by her people. Indeed, Camulus appeared to be with all of the Sarmatian knights, though they were not of his followers, for all of them seemed to possess uncanny skills with their swords.

With a smile, Caireach brought her attention back to the battle, and began to move, calling to Muireann as she headed towards Dayn.

"Muireann, help me herd them towards the Avatar!" With a nod, Muireann went left and Caireach went right as they began to maneuver the Saxons back in Dayn's direction. _We'll kill a lot more of the enemy this way._ As she fought, she was awestruck by the number of Saxons falling at Dayn's feet, unable to compete with the fey gleam in Dayn's eyes. Even covered in blood, Dayn fought on, knowing nothing but the blood-red haze of madness.

* * *

Hearing yells and the sound of steel clashing, Hummingbird's eyes lit up and she hurried in the direction of the noise, excited. _I bet I'll find Papa there,_ she thought confidently. But when she reached the entrance to the garrison, she froze in a mixture of fear and horror. Flames seemed to stretch to the far reaches of the sky, and blood covered the ground where the wounded and dying lay where they'd fallen.

"Papa!" she cried, dismayed at the thought that her beloved papa could be among the dead. "Papa, where are you?" she sobbed, tears beginning to fall down her face. She hurried forward, blinded by the tears in her eyes as she searched for her father. Most of the fighting had moved further on, but she ran onward, heedless of the danger, wanting nothing but her father's arms around her.

She stumbled, tripping over a body, and suddenly found herself lying in a pool of blood from the fallen warrior's body. She climbed to her feet, crying loudly, as she wiped her hands vainly on her dress, only to find that her dress was bloodstained now as well.

"I'm scared," she whimpered, not even sure who she was talking to, but just wanting someone to make it better. Unknowingly, she continued forward, moving closer and closer to the battle.

* * *

Caderyn urged his horse, Chaos, to go faster, grateful for the stallion's swift feet as he raced back towards Hadrian's Wall, the pain in his side spearing through him, protesting the torment of the horse's gallop.

He prayed to the Goddess of Chance that time would be on his side, knowing that time was the one thing he had precious little of. _Goddess, look on me favorably that I may find her before it is too late._ He could feel the blood coursing down his side, a result of the wound in his side reopening, but he could only hope that he would be able to hold out long enough to find Hummingbird.

_I made a promise to Vanora that I would find Hummingbird, and I cannot break my word. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to that child. _Images of the little girl's cheerful face looking up at him with a mischievous grin as she beat him at various dice games filtered through his head, and his heart clenched painfully as he imagined life without Hummingbird. _I have to find her_.

* * *

Sweat poured down Lancelot's face, mingling with the blood of small cuts along his face, but he ignored the sting. His twin swords moved like lightning, slashing into Saxons, dealing death swiftly and mercilessly.

His eyes held the promise of death, and he had no other thought but the battle before him. He fought on without thought, as though by fighting he could purge his mind and his heart of all of the pain and the anger of friends lost, of blood shed.

His muscles burned with fatigue, but Lancelot knew it wouldn't be long before the battle was decided. Spotting Guenevere ahead of him in a fierce battle with a formidable Saxon, he watched her fall, and he sprinted forward. He'd lost sight of Arthur long ago, and he knew that if he didn't act, the girl would be killed. _As convenient as it would be for me if she was no longer around to sway Arthur into fighting useless battles for a cause not his own, Arthur would be devastated if she were killed, and what kind of friend would I be if I knew I could save him that pain and didn't? _Even Lancelot, who was hopelessly insensitive at times, could see the depth of Arthur's feelings for the wild-eyed Woad, even if Arthur himself couldn't see it. So, Lancelot found himself hurtling forward, dodging swords and shoving people aside in his haste to save her. And he reached her just in time to catch a downward blow aimed at her heart. His swords locked into place around the Saxon's blade, stopping its downward swing by wedging it between his own swords. Lifting his foot, he kicked the Saxon in the chest to break away and planted his feet steadily in preparation to fight.

Lancelot stared at his opponent, sizing him up, looking for weaknesses that he could use to his advantage. The Saxon stood before him, hairless except for the braided beard he sported. A scar marred his face, _a new wound_, Lancelot thought, _judging from its appearance_. The fur cloak he wore concealed his back and shoulders, hiding possible chinks in his armor from Lancelot's eyes.

Lancelot could see the impatience in the Saxon's eyes, and knew that the Saxon was going to make the first move. Suddenly, the Saxon lunged forward, his sword aimed at Lancelot's chest. But Lancelot was ready for it, and he swiftly sidestepped, swinging one of his own swords in a backhand slash as the Saxon's momentum carried him forward. The Saxon blocked the swing, however, blocking it with his shield, and following up the knight's blow with one of his own, using his shield as a weapon with which to strike Lancelot in the head.

Lancelot staggered, his ears ringing a bit from the blow, but he managed to jump back as the Saxon swung his sword. He tightened his grip on his swords and darted in quickly, coming up under the Saxon's guard and slicing deeply into the Saxon's side. The Saxon let out a cry of pain and outrage before he fell to the ground heavily, his shield dropping from his hand. Lancelot wiped at the blood that was streaming from a cut at the side of his mouth, wincing as he turned to ensure that Guenevere was no longer in danger.

"Lancelot, look out!" Guenevere screamed, her eyes wide with horror. He turned to see that the Saxon had risen and now stood behind him, his sword raised to catch Lancelot in a cross-slash. And Lancelot knew with a grim sense of his own fatality that he couldn't get his sword up in time to block the attack. But before the Saxon brought his sword down, he froze, his eyes portraying his shock at a blow that came from behind. He fell, never to move again, and Lancelot looked up to thank the knight or Woad who had saved him, only to feel his own eyes widen with shock as he saw who had come to his aid.

The Saxon man standing before him strode forward and jerked his sword free from Cynric's back with a look of disdain at the fallen Saxon. He nodded at Lancelot before he softly said, "Behind you."

Lancelot turned and brought up his sword in time to block another attack, but he quickly dispatched the enemy and turned back to face the Saxon who had saved him. But the man had moved away, and Lancelot watched with surprise and confusion as the strange Saxon continued to cut into his own people, slaughtering them without a second thought. He was helping, Lancelot realized incredulously, but he was struck by a stab of reality as he realized that no one would realize that the Saxon was helping them. Hurrying towards the man, he grabbed the Saxon's arm.

"Regardless of the fact that you fight with us, you still look like a Saxon, and it could very well get you killed!"

"What would you have me do? I cannot change that," the man replied in thickly accented Latin, his Northern Germanic accent coloring his words.

"Stay by my side." The Saxon nodded, seeing the wisdom in Lancelot's words and, impressed by the knight's skills, decided that remaining at Lancelot's side for the remainder of the battle would be no hardship. Together, the two warriors squared off against a sudden surge of Saxons.

"You never told me your name," Lancelot yelled as he parried a swing with one sword and brought his other up to slash through the armor of his opponent gut.

"Wulflaf." Lancelot nodded, right as the Saxon's eyes widened in alarm, looking past the knight as something beyond him. "Crossbow," he yelled, jumping at Lancelot in a vain attempt to push him out of the way. But the arrow hit, and Lancelot looked down to see an arrow protruding from his ribcage.

"Damn," he murmured, looking up at Wulflaf with eyes that were beginning to glaze with pain. He collapsed, and though Wulflaf wanted to check on the knight, he knew he couldn't afford to. He stepped forward, standing over Lancelot with his sword raised before him, defending the fallen knight from any who dared to come near.

* * *

Caderyn felt his heart drop as he caught sight of Hummingbird, bloodstained and crying as she stood in the middle of the battlefield. She dropped to the ground on her knees, shielding her head with her arms as Saxons and Woads met in a violent clash of steel and blood all around her. He drove Chaos onward relentlessly before he threw himself from the saddle and gathered the terrified little girl up in his arms. She recognized him immediately and wrapped her arms around his neck in a strangling hold. Caderyn wanted nothing more than to soothe the child, but there wasn't time. A Saxon ran for him, axe raised as he grinned maliciously at Caderyn, sensing the knight's predicament. He couldn't very well fight with a child in his arms, but neither could he put her down and leave her defenseless.

He swayed, weak and in pain, even as he and the Saxon began to circle one another. Caderyn knew with a pain in his heart that he would have to sacrifice Chaos in order to save himself and Hummingbird, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he whistled for the great stallion. While he backed away, he shifted until the horse stood between the Saxon and himself and Hummingbird just as the Saxon made his move.

"I'm sorry, my friend," he whispered. And somehow Chaos understood, Caderyn knew, even as the Saxon's axe pierced the stallion's left flank. Chaos promptly went down, managing to fall on the unlucky Saxon in the process. Pinned beneath the wounded horse, the Saxon was indefensible, and Caderyn took advantage of it, shifting his sword to bury it in the Saxon's heart. Meanwhile, the battle around them continued to move, as Woads chased the Saxons across the charred and burning fields.

Hummingbird slowly slid out of Caderyn's arms, and he faltered, falling to his knees as Hummingbird looked on worriedly. He crawled to the stallion, running his hand along Chaos' neck, soothing the dying horse.

"Are you hurt, Hummingbird?" he asked, looking at the little girl who stood before him. She shook her head, and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. He groaned at the pain that shot through him as she unwittingly pressed against his wound. But he couldn't bring himself to push her away, and so he did the only thing he could. He rubbed her back, soothing her in the same way he soothed the horse.

"Is Chaos hurt bad, Caderyn?" Hummingbird asked tearfully.

"Yes," Caderyn murmured, watching as the horse jerked, and Caderyn's heart ached as he watched his beloved horse suffer. He lost track of time as they silently sat by the horse's side, until finally Chaos shuddered once more before falling still at last. Tears slid down Caderyn's face as he bid his faithful stallion goodbye. "Until we meet again, brother," he whispered to the horse, knowing that it was not goodbye forever, but feeling the pain of the stallion's loss cut deeply anyway.

Around them, the field slowly began to fall silent, until all was still but for the sound of the flames crackling over the still burning ground. Even the wounded seemed to have fallen silent, and Caderyn knew that the battle was over.

"Hummingbird, I'd like to take you to your father, but I don't think I'll make it that far. And I don't think you can carry me," he said with a faint smile.

"That's alright, Caderyn. Papa will come soon, and he'll help us." Caderyn questioned that, knowing that until Vanora spoke with Bors, no one would even know that the two of them were there. No one knew to look for them. But he didn't tell the hopeful little girl, because he just couldn't bring himself to dash her hopes. He leaned back against Chaos, slowly closing his eyes and succumbing to the darkness that beckoned.

* * *

Nemhain left Dayn as she always did—quickly and without warning—and Dayn found himself struggling to stay on his feet as weariness and pain beat at him. His leg, still not back to normal after his last injury, threatened to buckle under his weight, and the arrow wound in his chest was beginning to send shooting pains through him.

"Avatar, are you alright?" Caireach reached out and caught his forearm as he appeared to stumble. "Let me help you," she said softly. Muireann approached, offering to help as well, but Dayn waved her off. He reluctantly accepted Caireach's help, hating the weakness that forced him to take help, but knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to remain standing for long without it. "The arrow in your chest should be removed," she said, but he shook his head.

"Later. It'll only bleed more if we remove it now. Just break the shaft a bit, so it's not in the way." Nodding, she grasped the shaft of the arrow in both hands, looking at him with a worried look.

"This will hurt more than if I simply removed it."

"Just do what I ask," Dayn said wearily, not wishing to argue with the woman.

"Very well," she murmured, and with a firm grip, snapped the end off the shaft, sending sharp pain radiating through Dayn's chest. He groaned, fighting the darkness that threatened to overcome him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady the beating of his heart before he looked once more at Caireach.

"The other knights, know you anything of them?"

"No, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I fear we may hear of many friends who have fallen this day." Muireann shook her head as well, knowing nothing of the fates of the other Sarmatian knights.

Dayn leaned heavily on the Woad, as the pain and blood loss from numerous wounds began to take their toll.

"We have to find them," Dayn said.

* * *

A/N: Ok, everyone, this is it…this story will end here, but it will be followed up by a sequel which picks up right where this one leaves off. So I hope you stick with me, and continue to read and review for me! Oh, and in case anyone wants to know, Caireach is pronounced KEE-rek and Muireann is pronounced MEER-an.

**Aelia O'Hession:** Thanks again for your help with the gods—I really appreciated it, especially the little details you gave me about each one. They were very helpful in determining which one to use for my story. Camulus didn't make any actual appearances, but I hope you liked how I pulled him into the story. That one goddess you mentioned thoughMedbsounds like the patron goddess of Bors, doesn't she? LOL!

**mimishell: **Thanks for reviewing for me yet again! Aren't you just so excited that there's a sequel that you get to read too? LOL! J/K! I won't force you to, of course, but I'll strongly hint. And no, it wasn't wrong that you laughed at the phrase from the last chapter. I'm glad you enjoyed it enough to laugh.

**Camreyn:** I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought the bishop should have been killed in the movie. The rason Tristan and Dayn didn't check on the women is simply that they honestly didn't think there would be any trouble. Besides, they counted on Caderyn to protect them, which he did to the best of his ability. He'd have kicked butt if they hadn't outnumbered him. I really don't know why I always go back to the scenes with Dayn and Lancelot together…I guess it has to do with the fact that they're so often at odds, but yet they still come together when they need each other, you know? Like brothers. Anyways, I think I addressed most of your questions during the chapter. Let me know if I missed any. By the way, the upcoming sequel—that's all for you! You talked me into it, and it got my creative juices flowing a lot. I've come up with a lot of good ideas, so I expect you to stick around.

**ModestySparrow9:** So how did I do with Adima this time around? Thanks for letting me use her. Thanks for the compliments too, by the way—it made me feel really good about my writing. You've been doing a great job yourself, especially with your Phantom fic—I really enjoy reading your updates. Anyways, I'm taking a break from the LOTR fic because I didn't get a lot of response to my last chapter, and instead, I'll be focusing on the sequel to this one. But I'll get back to it eventually, since you've seemed to enjoy it.

**chiefhow:** I'm glad you're enjoying my story. And I'm glad you enjoy "scary Dayn" as much as I do—lol! Surprisingly enough, Hummingbird did actually go to bed, because she knew Bors was watching. Otherwise, she probably would have been wandering around all night.

**MonDieu:** Yeah, I'm quite fond of my characters myself. I added several new ones in this chapter, which will appear in the sequel, so I hope you like them as well.

**Karina:** Yay—a new reviewer! Glad you reviewed this time! I'm sorry you don't care for Dayn much…yeah, he's got some issues, but he's gonna start toning down now, because with the Romans gone, the subject of his hatred has been removed. The way I see it, he now has a chance at happiness, and some peace. Dayn's problem stems from the fact that he doesn't see the Romans as separate entities—the Romans are all the same to him, and so he hates them all equally because of what happened to his brother. Orainne is rather girly, and definitely fits nicely with Dayn—she's the yin to his yang, I guess you could say. She evens him out, calms him down a bit. And I'm glad you like the other knights I added. My favorite, besides Dayn, is Caderyn—I love him to death—so expect him to make appearances in the sequel as well. Even though you're not fond of Dayn, I hope you'll read the sequel. My focus will be shifting away from Dayn a bit, as I'll be focusing more on newer characters, so I think you'd enjoy it. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing for me!

**KAfan:** Glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for that bit about Tristan's revenge being perfect—I was worried that he was getting the shaft in the revenge department. It seems that you're not the only one who enjoyed the Lancelot-Orainne scene…someone else mentioned that as well. Who knew? LOL. Anyways, thanks for the review!


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